Secret Keeper
by ermalope
Summary: Dumbledore suggests Severus Snape as Secret Keeper for the Potters, which is awkward all around. AU
1. A Fuchsia Tea Set

_JK Rowling._

It was a calm, crisp night; somewhat too mild for a night in late October. At this late hour most of the Hogwarts students would be asleep. Their Headmaster, however, was still awake, gazing thoughtfully at the dark grounds below his office windows. A young man stood uncertainly near the entrance, watching as Albus Dumbledore looked on.

The young man examined some of the various contraptions in the Headmaster's office, feigning interest, stalling, shifting uncomfortably, and then finally saying, "I'll just… go, then."

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment and then continued to observe the grounds. The young man's brow creased slightly, but he said nothing. He turned away and left.

New information churned in Dumbledore's head, and yet this other matter kept creeping to the forefront of his thoughts. He watched a night bird glide towards the forest.

"Severus?"

A moment later, from the bottom of the stone steps, the new Potions Master and double agent Severus Snape answered, "Dumbledore?"

"I wonder if I might keep you for a little while longer… I believe I may have another task for you."

Severus re-entered the office to find Dumbledore facing him; making eye contact. "Certainly, sir," he said, barely able to remove all traces of contempt from his voice.

It was much later that night, or earlier the next morning, when Dumbledore arrived at the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. A brilliant silver phoenix roused Lily and James Potter, who were hiding there until further arrangements could be made, and asked them to join Dumbledore in the kitchen.

They did so eventually, both wearing pyjamas and yawning.

"I believe I've found you a solution," Dumbledore said without preamble.

"To what?" asked James, stifling another yawn.

"To your dilemma regarding a choice of secret keeper."

"We've already worked it out with Sirius -"

"I thought you were looking for someone Voldemort would not suspect."

James and Lily glanced at each other. "We've – we've discussed it amongst ourselves -"

"And while I do hate to meddle, I think I have come up with a rather brilliant plan."

"Not to sound ungrateful," began James warily, as he and Lily glanced at each other again, "but you see, Professor, we've talked it over with Sirius and we think we've come up with the perfect -"

"What is your plan, then?" asked Dumbledore.

"I – what?" James replied, no longer yawning.

"I am willing to admit that you have arranged matters quite snugly amongst yourselves, but in the interest of your safety perhaps we should explore all options." The Headmaster was staring into space again. James and Lily looked at him, quite as dumbfounded as Severus had been.

It was Lily who broke the silence.

"Sirius suggested we use Peter – we're going to ask him in the morning," she said.

"Ah, because you presume Voldemort will think you have used Sirius and is therefore not likely to think you have used Peter. I see." He gazed off into the dusty darkness thoughtfully.

James and Lily looked at each other again.

"Have you considered the possibility that either of them… or both of them… could be relaying information to Vol-"

"Never," James said firmly.

"I hope you are right. Still." Dumbledore finally looked at them again, pierced them, in fact, with his gaze, first James, but for a long moment he looked at Lily. "I ask you to consider my alternative."

"Professor, we're very thankful that you've offered, but we think it's really for the best if -" began Lily.

"Oh, I'm not asking you to consider me again. The person I'm thinking of is far less conspicuous. Perhaps even the last person Voldemort would think of."

"Who is it?" asked James.

Dumbledore looked at Lily first, and his eyes came to rest on James. "Severus Snape."

Lily blinked. James stared at Dumbledore wordlessly.

"Lord Voldemort will never suspect him. And he will never betray your secret."

"But - he's got to be a Death Eater!" Lily said, staring at Dumbledore incredulously.

"Indeed he was, not long ago. But now, he is a double agent."

Lily looked at James, her mouth open in disbelief and confusion. James was shaking his head at Dumbledore, his expression matching hers. "I would never put my family's safety in that git's slimy hands."

"You are blinded by hatred. Severus and I have an understanding. I am convinced beyond any doubt that he will keep your secret."

"No, Dumbledore."

"He is exactly what you're looking for -"

"No!"

"We know we can trust him, whereas -"

"Might as well suggest using Voldemort as secret keeper!"

"No one apart from us will know of it, and Voldemort is too arrogant to suspect -"

"You've gone mad, Dumbledore! I've already told you, no!"

James and Lily stared at the now silent Headmaster with identical expressions of indignation. After a long moment, Dumbledore stood, slowly, but his eyes had hardened, and every particle in him radiated power. To behold the great wizard like this was becoming less and less rare in these dangerous times. The Potter's expressions melted away.

"I ask you to trust that I did not come here in the middle of the night to play old Hogwarts Sorting Hat games with you, to pit you entertainingly against an old rival, and I am certainly not here to force you to do something you consider extremely dangerous and abhorrent. I am simply here to urge you toward the best solution you have. You may gallantly refuse to consider the possibility that any of those close to you are untrustworthy, but we know – indeed, we have known for some time – that this is most unfortunately and unavoidably a fact. If your friends truly care about you then they will be able to breathe freely knowing you found the safest hiding place available to you. And if you are unable to trust me any longer, then we might as well join the Death Eaters immediately."

There was a long silence. Finally, James turned to Lily. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

She turned to Dumbledore, disbelief and fear clouding her green eyes as the headmaster took his seat once more. "And you're sure… quite sure… that he is on our side?"

Dumbledore smiled. "There are few things of which I am certain. This happens to be one of them."

James's eyes narrowed as if he wished to challenge this statement, but Lily took a deep, resigned breath, staring as a child mesmerized by the wisdom of his father into Dumbledore's eyes. She said to James, "I think we ought to consider it, at least."

But Dumbledore was unwilling to allow the Potters to consider any longer – now that even James looked resigned (though mutinous), Dumbledore knew that he had what he wanted. "There will be no time for further discussion. I shall summon him now."

"But -" James began as Dumbledore stood and produced his wand.

"Best to do it now, while everyone sleeps, so that your safety is entirely assured." The silver phoenix burst forth as Lily and James rose, bewildered and confused. "He will be here shortly. Mind your manners. Hopefully when next we meet, it shall be in happier times."

Then he was gone, leaving Lily and James gaping after him. Waiting for Snape.

It had happened. The Potters had made him secret keeper.

And he was very seriously contemplating suicide.

Dumbledore was smiling at him over a small, flowery tea set on his office desk. Severus considered throwing the proffered tea in the headmaster's face and telling him that he was even more sadistic than the Dark Lord. Instead, he scowled.

"You will do this, will you not?" Dumbledore asked seriously, but he was still smiling as he poured himself a cup. "Properly?"

"I believe we have already established this," Severus answered in a dull monotone.

"I told them that you would never betray them."

"And I won't."

"I know," sighed Dumbledore. He charmed two sugar cubes and directed them into his fuchsia teacup. "They don't trust you."

Internally rolling his eyes, Severus said, "Then it was foolish of them to make me their secret keeper."

"They trust me. Sure you don't want some tea, Severus?"

He jerked his head irritably by way of reply. Dumbledore shrugged and sipped his own. The office was silent for several moments, but then Severus looked up and asked, "And you're interested in their affairs because, what, you want to secure my position as your double agent?"

Dumbledore peered at him intently. "I am interested in aiding the Potters because they are good people, good people who do not deserve to be murdered to suit the whims of an arrogant tyrant. In any case, Severus, I do not put much stock into prophecies and other such magics. I do, however, recognize the power of love, and therefore -"

Feeling the need to end this conversation before it went anywhere too… well, too… something, anyway, Severus interjected. "Trelawney prophesized the Dark Lord's downfall. That doesn't interest you?"

"Indeed, Severus, and if you hadn't told your 'Dark Lord' all that you heard, do you suppose that he would have suddenly decided to gallivant about murdering infants?"

Severus glared defiantly back at Dumbledore for a moment, but then the fight went out of him and he lowered his gaze until he was staring moodily into his lap. Something flickered behind Dumbledore's eyes as he watched Severus. The Headmaster summoned a second fuchsia teacup with a flick of his wand, and silently made sugar and cream float through the air into the cup as the flowered teapot poured. The cup and saucer floated closer and closer to the potions master until they were directly under his nose and he finally noticed them. He rolled his eyes, seized them, and put them rather forcibly on Dumbledore's desk – but not before he took a gulp.

"If Voldemort unwisely chooses to depend upon prophecies and foolish superstitions, and we, as I was saying before, prefer to foster and revere love and decency in general, eventually, I think, we shall have the advantage."

Severus looked unconvinced. Dumbledore finished his tea and said, "So, to business. Can you guess what this little side project of yours will entail?"

"Not telling anyone else that I'm the secret keeper of the Potters," Severus muttered.

"Especially Voldemort."

"I can't even tell him? I would never have guessed," Severus said in the same miserable monotone. Dumbledore smiled humourlessly.

"Yes, but you will be close to him often, and he can neither suspect your actual intentions, or that you are hiding something from -"

"I have, over the past few months, had enough practise evading the Dark Lord's suspicions."

"Then we shall move on. Not one member of the Order is to know that you are my agent. When James asks you to give Sirius the secret location, which is an inevitability, you will not."

"Fine," was the curt answer. Severus was perfectly happy to keep Black and all of Potter's other stinking friends out of this.

"And you'll have to visit the Potters often to bring them whatever they need, and the Order's news."

"Couldn't you -" Severus said desperately, horrified at the prospect.

"I, Severus? I have other things to do."

Severus considered sneering at that, or arguing further, and perhaps smashing some strange contraptions. He stayed silent.

"On that note, since the Potters were in such an unexpected rush last night to do the charm, it's likely they don't have much prepared. You should go visit them now and see what you can do for them."

Severus balked, which was impressive, considering his normally pallid complexion. "Severus, you should do it now while our mutual friend," here Dumbledore nodded to the arm upon which the Dark Mark was burned, "is not summoning you."

Glaring more furiously than he had over the entire meeting, Severus stood up and swept out of the office, muttering something ferocious under his breath that made Dumbledore chuckle appreciatively once the young potions master was out of earshot.

Disillusion charmed and scowling, Severus Snape stood on the porch of the house in Godric's Hollow, fist raised to knock. He had been standing like that for nearly five minutes. _Just do it. Get it over with._ He sighed, and finally knocked.

He could hear eager footsteps down the hall, and an enormous crash and a lot of surprised shouting. The door opened.

James Potter was staring right through Severus, who hissed, "It's me."

Potter's eyes narrowed, but he stepped back to let Severus in. "What are you doing here?" he spat as he watched Severus materialize out of thin air.

"Believe me Potter, if I didn't _have_ to be -" he stopped, and said in a more silky voice, "I'd expect more gratitude from you. I am saving your life. Part of this duty requires me to ensure that you don't starve, as much as it would satisfy me if you did."

Potter's eyes, which had been still narrowed in intense dislike, widened – now horrified. "Couldn't someone else… Sirius, or Peter, or… _anyone_ do that?"

"Of course, Potter, practically everyone was falling over themselves to offer, but I, personally, couldn't refuse such an honour," Severus sneered. "Not to mention that your friends are selling information to the Dark Lord -"

James made a furious sound in his throat, but didn't challenge him. Instead, he said, "Why can't Dumbledore, then?"

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you think you're so precious. Dumbledore has far more important things to do than running around trying to pamper you."

They stood, glaring at each other with the same hatred as they had through all their years at Hogwarts. The silence increased until Lily stumbled in carrying the boy on her hip, who was covered in some sort of bright red gelatinous substance. She was looking at James; she hadn't noticed Severus at all as she admonished her husband. "James, do you think you could give up on that bloody fireplace for a minute and help… me…" she had seen him at last. "Oh…."

At an ungodly hour that morning, just before they performed the charm, Lily had seen to it that James was preoccupied with the child and took Severus by the arm so that they were safely out of earshot.

"What did you say to Dumbledore that made him believe you to be trustworthy?"

He had cringed, hopefully only inwardly. "I told him the truth. I told him that I could not do the Dark Lord's bidding anymore."

"And why would that be?" she had snarled.

He had stared into her eyes desperately, looking for an answer that wouldn't infuriate or disgust her. "Because… it would have hurt me to continue on any longer. I would have been destroyed. I went to Dumbledore and begged him for amnesty and for protection."

She had surveyed him for a moment. Then she leant in closer. "Are you going to betray us?"

"Never."

"How can I know that for sure?"

"You can't, I suppose. But I wouldn't be here if I wanted you dead."

There had been another long moment during which she had peered intently into his eyes, and the seriousness of her searching for reassurance was only marred by the inexplicable honking noises coming out of the over-excited miniature Potter as he tried to yank his father's wand out of his shirt pocket.

"I'll trust you for now, Snape. I have no choice. But you need to understand something. If you go back on your word to Dumbledore, and my family ends up attacked, make damn sure that you kill me, or I will make you wish that it was Voldemort that you crossed. Is this clear?"

He had _almost_ gulped. "Yes." She had looked at him a moment longer, and then had rejoined her husband.

Now, in the Potters' hallway, she was staring openly at him. He looked away. James was still glaring at Severus. "Well," he said finally, "let's get this over with."

"Get what over with?" Lily asked James. The boy stuck three fingers in his mouth.

"He's here to do our shopping," Potter replied distastefully.

"Oh," she said and shifted the boy on her hip. He finally met her eyes – they were full of mistrust and the smallest touch of fear, but she said, "Won't you come into the – well, the kitchen's a disaster at the moment, but… into the sitting room… Mr. Snape?"

Both Severus and Potter started at hearing her use this formality with him, but then Potter was laughing.

"Mr. Snape! Lily, what the bloody hell… I'll have to tell Sirius that."

"I'm constantly amazed at your infantile sense of humour, Potter," Severus said furiously. His cheeks had coloured just a little bit.

Lily said nothing, but marched determinedly through a small archway into the sitting room. They followed her in, Potter still laughing. "Please sit down," she said politely, aggressively, gesturing to a squashy purple armchair. Truthfully Severus would have much preferred to take care of matters in the hallway, or better yet, on the porch, but it was Lily who asked, so he took the seat. She sat on the couch opposite, and Potter, who was frowning again, asked, "And since we're being hospitable, may I ask how Death Eaters take their tea?"

Severus twitched, longing to reply scathingly. He had always had trouble with the scathing replies when Potter had been among friends, although when it was just the two of them they sparred quite evenly. Black, Pettigrew and Lupin weren't here, but Lily was. He had always had even more trouble articulating in front of her. There was a time when it didn't matter – she would have stuck up for him. Today she just sat, tense, perspiring a little bit, clutching her son. Severus ignored the crack and simply asked, "Well?"

Potter lowered himself into the seat beside his wife and leaned forward. "You'll need some parchment. And a quill."

"I'll be fine."

"It's going to be a long list."

"I'll manage."

"If you forget something you'll have to go back out and it'll take longer."

"… I haven't got ink on me -"

Potter tossed him a bottle, grinning menacingly. "Okay. Food."

"Care to be more specific?"

"Lily, what do we usually buy, I can't quite…"

"Just the fresh stuff, whatever looks good."

"So, fruit, vegetables, eggs, juice, milk…"

"A large assortment of baby food. Is that all, do you think?"

"I'd say so. We've got stocked cupboards. And we've way too many potions ingredients. We're out of floo powder, though."

"You can't have floo powder," Severus interjected.

Potter glared at him. "We can have whatever we want."

"No, you can't. Floo powder won't work, anyway."

Potter simply glared at him. Lily sighed, and looked at Severus. "He's been trying to hoodwink it so that it will."

"It doesn't surprise me," Severus said softly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" James and Severus were glaring at each other furiously again.

"Just that you're predictable, and extremely foolish. You cannot make contact with the wizarding world except through me. It's too dangerous."

"You can't possibly expect us to just stay in here for who knows how long with only you for company!"

"I expect you to do what you have to so that you don't have to watch your son get blown up before his next birthday."

"Get out of this house."

"Gladly."

"James."

He was breathing rather heavily, staring at the door through which Severus had left moments ago. He ignored her.

"_James_."

"What?" he snapped.

Lily had set Harry on the floor, and he was crawling in slow pursuit of the cat. Lily stood with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"You can't… you shouldn't argue with him."

"_What_?"

"He's helping us. He's the only one we've got, so you shouldn't revert back to your Hogwarts days -"

"Lily, did you hear him? Did you hear what he said about Harry?"

"Yes, I heard him. And don't think I like this any more than you do, but I'm telling you that it will be much easier for everyone if you control yourself."

"I, control myself – he was the one who -"

"You asked him how Death Eaters like their tea, and you laughed at me calling him Mr. Snape."

"That's because that was bloody ridiculous."

Lily sighed and sat back down, and James followed suit. He flung an arm around her and they watched Harry prod the cat.

"I don't trust him."

"Dumbledore does."

"I don't."

The cat peered at Harry through one pale green eye, and her tail thumped dangerously on the floor. Harry seized it in one chubby hand.

"Do you?"

James was staring at her searchingly.

Lily sighed. The cat grumbled. "Harry," warned James. Harry released her tail and she stormed off.

"I discussed it with him this morning."

"You did?"

"Yes. James, I think Dumbledore is right. I think he really means to protect us. Is he pleasant? No. Is he even adequately helpful? Probably not. But I think we're at least safe. And that's a lot to be thankful for." She watched Harry pull globs of jelly off of his elbows silently.

James frowned. "Fine. Wonderful. Stupendous. But from now on we'll do business on the porch. He's not coming back into this house. And if he gets our shopping wrong I'm going to hex him."

"You do that."

"You used to laugh at my jokes."

"Your jokes used to be funny."

"Ouch."

_There used to be something at the beginning about whether or not the timeline/secret keeper thing makes any sense whatsoever, but I got rid of it. Just so's you know. Still, thanks to those readers among you who weighed in on the subject._


	2. Tack

It was Halloween, and because some people were sentimental fools, Severus found himself knocking on Hagrid's door at an ungodly hour. "Wassamatter?" came a grunt from within.

"It's me. Now open the damn door, it's freezing out here."

"Young Professor Snape," grinned Hagrid as he wrenched his door open and ushered Severus inside. "I have the usual, but I got a treat, too." There was an enormous basket of what some might term "baking" and the more experienced might not, as well as various wrapped and dried meats, and a lot of firewhisky on the table. Hagrid went stumping outside, and Severus realized with considerable dread what his intentions were.

"Hagrid, really, is that necessary?" he complained as the groundskeeper stumbled in from his backyard, wrestling an enormous pumpkin through the door.

"O'course it is! What do yeh think Harry'll say when he sees this beauty?"

Severus did not reply.

"Yeh're probably right, can't talk much, I expect. Think yeh'll manage with all o' that?" Hagrid asked, surveying the basket and the pumpkin in apparent trepidation as if just realizing how cumbersome the load might be to sneak to people who were in hiding.

"I'll be fine," Severus mumbled. There was complicated spellwork to be done, and all the while making forced small talk with the groundskeeper, but eventually the basket and pumpkin were tucked away and Severus could run his errand.

Severus had been furious when he had gone to give a report on the Potters to Dumbledore and found that Hagrid was now in on the secret. Apparently, telling no one in the Order about this actually meant, "Hey, let's tell Hagrid so that every week he can prepare a monstrous basket of goods for you to lug over to the Potters." But there was nothing to be done now.

Personally, Severus considered Hagrid's involvement quite disturbing, especially because he had seen for himself how Hagrid spent his Saturday nights. He had said as much to Dumbledore, only to discover that if you really wanted to infuriate the Headmaster, you might try calling the groundskeeper a drunken oaf. But Dumbledore assured him much later on that particular night with painstaking sincerity that Hagrid was to be trusted, especially in matters such as this, and that Severus had nothing to worry about.

Now it was Halloween morning, early and frigid, and Severus was trekking through the narrow streets of Godric's Hollow disillusion charmed. What he saw upon turning the last corner before the Potter's house sent ice down his spine.

McNair.

He stood mere metres from the Potter's front walkway.

Severus inhaled, remembering that the Death Eater could see neither him nor the house. It was windy, which made him feel better about any sound his footsteps might make, and he managed to pass by McNair without incident. He never took his eyes away from him, though, even once on the porch. It took a moment for him to gain the courage to knock.

For a while there was silence, but then, slowly, the door inched open. Severus slid through it as soon as it was open wide enough.

James closed the door quietly behind him as Severus' charm wore off, and the two men stood staring at each other in the Potters' hallway. From here Severus could see Lily. She stood in the drawing room near the front window, white-faced, watching McNair stand guard outside her house. She didn't acknowledge Severus's appearance.

"McNair," James finally said. Lily looked around, startled.

"Yes," Severus said. "How long has he been here?"

"He must have come earlier this morning, or last night," Lily said, so quietly the words were barely spoken.

"He can't see us or hear us," James said firmly, looking anything but reassured. Lily didn't respond.

After a few more minutes, while the Potters surveyed McNair, Severus became too uncomfortable to stand in silence. "I have things from Hagrid, and new groceries," he said quietly.

"Can you put them in the kitchen?" The request was bizarre. It came from Lily. She moved closer to her husband, and he took her in his arms, and so Severus didn't reply and turned away.

Their kitchen was dark and untouched this morning. Severus summoned the fruits and vegetables and the fresh apple pie that they had wanted. He arranged them meticulously on the counter where he supposed he would put them if this had been his house. He stacked the rock cakes, treacle fudge, and meats from Hagrid, and scooped a multitude of Hogwarts eggs into a bowl. The pumpkin he distastefully left in one of the kitchen's corners, frowning at it because once it had grown to its full size he supposed it would have to stay there. Unpacked and unwilling to go back into the hallway, he gazed around into the gloom.

Two green eyes gazed back at him. The boy was in a high chair munching on breakfast cereal. He watched Severus silently. The only noise was a steady crunching.

After a moment, the boy raised one hand, fingers opened, and then closed, opened, then closed. Severus stared. The boy stared back. After another moment he repeated the gesture.

Gobsmacked as he was, it really came as no surprise that when a small furry dark shape darted from out of the shadows and leapt onto the counter Severus's reaction was to jump near out of his skin, and almost, but not quite, shriek like a Mandrake.

Severus caught his breath and turned stiffly to make sure that the Potters hadn't seen. Reassured, he turned back to watch as the boy pointed at the Potters' cat, who was now chewing on a rock cake. The boy gazed up at Severus and whispered, "Tack."

Severus raised his eyebrows, unable to think of anything else to do.

"Tack," he whispered again.

"Tack?" Severus asked, perplexed.

"Tack," said the boy, looking satisfied. He went back to his vaguely wiggling Slither-Os.

Severus was unsure of what to make of this encounter. He felt certain that the child was mocking him in some way, but the boy barely acknowledged him again and had indeed started to hum vaguely by the time Severus had the good sense to leave the kitchen.

Lily and James turned at hearing his approach. They both looked less frightened. Severus longed to be in his dank office at Hogwarts, brewing an unpleasant potion, teaching unpleasant children, having unpleasant conversations with Minerva McGonagall. The Potters were looking expectantly at him.

"I'll return next week. I don't think you're in any immediate danger, as long as you stay inside. If you can, keep a record of McNair. Watch to see if the guard switches and when. I shall tell Dumbledore about this."

Both of them nodded, but said nothing.

Not sure at all if he was meant to say anything more, Severus began the process of disillusioning himself again. Neither Potter objected, so when he was done, he swept through the door and closed it quietly behind him.

McNair seemed to stare straight at him.

The Halloween feast was the most subdued Halloween feast Severus could remember, but then, it had been several years since his seventh year at Hogwarts. Since then, Voldemort had become much harder to ignore. Just days ago, the muggle-born Hufflepuff Head Girl's entire family had been killed by Death Eaters. She was absent. Severus was unsure where Dumbledore had sent her, but as he looked on he could see her group of friends sitting together, pale and silent, while with just one table in between them sat Severus' own students. Among them, he knew, were children of various prominent Death Eaters who were likely to have been involved in the murders.

Dumbledore was absent from his seat. Severus sat between Hagrid and McGonagall; Hagrid was eating voraciously, McGonagall was frowning and casting him periodic dark glances. Severus had a small potato speared on his fork but he hadn't speared it out of hunger, so he simply sat and stared at it moodily. Eventually he couldn't stand it any longer and he excused himself. He could feel the eyes of teachers and students alike as he swept from the Great Hall, could hear whispers. Today, no differently than any other day, he cared little.

As he stormed through the Hogwarts halls, there was heat in his head and bile in his throat, and he decided that it was because of the Potters. No. That wasn't it. It was, really, McNair. McNair shouldn't have been standing guard in Godric's Hollow. That was the source of Severus's unrest. McNair, McNair, green eyes, red hair. Yes.

Severus abruptly came to a halt and kicked at a suit of armour, disgusted with himself. Disgusted with James Potter and Lily Evans too, but mostly with himself.

"We all –hic– have our –hic– bad days," came a voice, and turning he saw it was her. The Fat Lady, gobbling chocolate liqueurs. "Apparently, you –hic– more than –hic– most."

"No one asked you," he snarled.

She opened her mouth indignantly, but all that came out was an enormous hiccup which knocked her out of her seat. Severus smirked at her flailing limbs as she attempted to get up and walked on.

He stormed through various halls in the castle, not paying attention to where he was going, occasionally knocking suits of armour over, earning himself jeers from paintings. One suit actually took a swing at him. He may have used a curse he'd learned from the darkest wizard of the age on that one. Eventually he found himself staring into the stone eyes of the gargoyle at the base of the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Severus frowned at it.

"Password?" the gargoyle asked.

Severus paused for a moment, and then, defeated, spat, "Pumpkin Pasty." He climbed the steps and knocked on the Headmaster's door, not really expecting him to answer.

"Enter."

Severus started, inhaled, and then entered.

"Ah, Severus. Why aren't you in the Great Hall enjoying the marvellous feast?" Dumbledore sat turned to one side, as if he had been, before Severus knocked, engaged in conversation with the painting of his predecessor to his left.

"I wasn't hungry," Severus muttered, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He'd been here on a few occasions, mainly to report on the Potters, twice to report on his students. The most "heartfelt" conversation he'd ever had with the Headmaster had taken place in his own office, when Dumbledore had sought him out to reassure him about Hagrid's loyalty. Severus had been here bright and early this morning to tell Dumbledore about McNair. There was nothing left to say.

Dumbledore gazed at the young Potions Master thoughtfully and gestured at the seat across from himself. Severus shook his head. "No, I don't want to disturb you. I don't really know why I came here. I'll leave you alone."

"I insist, Severus. Take a seat."

From behind Dumbledore's shoulder, Headmaster Armando Dippet shot Severus a death glare. Severus sat nonetheless.

When Dumbledore didn't speak first, Severus felt the need to fill the silence, so he asked, "Where did you send that Hufflepuff girl?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his throne-like chair and his face darkened. "She's in the Hospital Wing." Severus waited for him to say something further, but he did not.

"It's odd." Severus said; he could think of nothing else to say.

"What is?" asked Dumbledore.

Severus frowned. "When - if she returns to her classes, she'll be taking them among children of those Death Eaters who killed her family. That's odd."

"'Odd'. An interesting choice of adjective for the situation." Dumbledore's facial expression had not changed.

Severus shifted uncomfortably under the dark gaze. "I guess what I'm wondering is why you don't throw those students out. You know who their parents are. They don't try to hide it."

"Hogwarts is a safe place. It is the only sanctuary for a girl who has lost all of her family outside of these walls, and it is the only sanctuary for children who may be used as pawns against their parents should they disappoint their Dark Lord. If I can protect them from such a fate, I will, regardless of the choices their parents make."

The Headmaster sighed, as if these words wearied him through to his bones. Severus shifted again, as uncomfortable in the face of Dumbledore's weariness as in his anger.

"What are we going to do about McNair?" Severus finally asked.

"There isn't much we can do. You can ensure that he doesn't see you. Be stealthier than Voldemort's agents. It should not be a difficult task for you."

"No."

"I have sent word to Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. I have suggested that they go into hiding for the time being, for likely Voldemort will try to go to them before he comes to me."

Severus couldn't care less about Potter's cronies, but he nodded to appease the Headmaster. "What happens when the Dark Lord decides that he has no choice but to confront you?"

Dumbledore's gaze hardened.

"We shall face what comes as it comes."

Severus stared at him, and supposed by the finality of this utterance that Dumbledore was finished speaking to him for the night. He stood, and when Dumbledore raised no objections, he made his way to the door.


	3. Turnips

"So? What did Dumbledore say?" James demanded the moment the door shut behind Severus. A week had passed, and Severus had been greeted, upon arrival in Godric's Hollow, quite horrifically by the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange standing guard in the street. Severus was hardly un-charmed yet and thought he might make James wait for an answer, but Lily stood next to him, biting her lip and looking hopeful.

"He said," Severus said, watching his body slowly materialize, "that there isn't much we can do. Death Eaters standing guard outside can't harm you. They're here to intimidate you, and the best they can hope for is that the tactic will work and you'll… do something unwise."

James snarled viciously. "That's hardly an answer, Snape! They've been standing out there for a week, right outside the front window, and Dumbledore wants to do nothing?"

"What do you expect him to do, show up here and give them the jelly legs jinx? They pose you no threat. I suggest drawing the curtains."

James seemed about to say something, but he never did. Instead he turned and stormed over to the window and glared at Bellatrix. "She'll do something to provoke us."

"She can't know for sure that you're in here," Severus said, shaken by the suggestion nonetheless. Attacking some innocent muggle was exactly the sort of thing Bellatrix would do, whether or not she was sure that the Potters were there to see it. And James Potter would no doubt rush into the street to be a big hero and put everyone's lives in danger. "Have you tracked their schedules?" he asked, hoping to distract himself as much as anyone else.

"They usually do eight or so hours. It's been mostly McNair and Crabbe, but there have been others we didn't recognize. She hasn't been here before today."

"How long has is been since her arrival?" Severus asked. He had directed the question at James, but it was Lily who answered.

"Four hours."

He glanced at her. She didn't look hopeful anymore. Now that he was allowing himself to look at her properly he could see dark circles under her eyes, and she was very pale. She returned his glance and said, "She hasn't done anything yet. She just stares."

"She'll get restless." Severus wondered where his stubborn and naive assertion that Bellatrix might not cause trouble had gone. But he knew better, of course he knew better, and it didn't help anyone to deny this knowledge. Bellatrix Lestrange was not blindly devoted to her Lord. He may have told her just to watch, to not let anything distract her, but she would be searching for a way to deliver for her master. As her eight hours dwindled, she might get desperate or frustrated. One didn't need more than a passing acquaintance with her to know how insane the woman was.

"What are we supposed to do?" James asked, but it was clear that he wasn't asking Severus this question.

The three stood in silence for a while. Lily and Severus were in the doorway, and he had his arms full of their groceries still. James was beside the window, and all of them stared tensely at Bellatrix. As if sensing despair in her prey, she took a step closer to the house.

Abruptly, Lily turned away and disappeared into the early morning gloom in the depths of the house. James watched her as she emerged carrying the boy. She talked to him cheerfully as she carried him up the stairs and out of sight, but it was not difficult to detect the fear that had settled in her.

When she was gone, and her high-pitched intones to the child were muffled by a closed door, James looked at Severus. His eyes seemed locked in place, unable to look away from the only human being left in sight apart from the hunter outside. Severus, in turn, was taken aback to see an expression of utter defeat in his face, and he too found himself unable to look away. Vague surprise turned to horror when, inexplicably and without warning, Severus's childhood enemy finally broke the glance and dissolved into hoarse tears.

Severus was thrown. He had, of course, imagined himself watching James Potter cry many times, usually because a certain piece of Quidditch equipment had lodged itself magically into a place where it shouldn't have been. But this…. Watching the man cry now was far less satisfying than he had assumed it would have been in his Hogwarts days.

Just as Severus was latching on to his first clear thought since watching James Potter break down in tears, which was deciding that he had better escape to the kitchen (because really, he had been holding the groceries for too long), something substantial and furry landed on his shoulder and this time, gloriously, he did shriek in a creditable impression of a Mandrake. It was the Potters' blasted cat, who leapt with fright at Severus's loud reaction to her appearance, and the crash and clatter of everything in Severus's arms falling to the floor, and then she tore down the hall. James had started and whipped around, had watched the cat jump down from Severus's shoulder and run away, and watched as his groceries rolled around on the floor where they had been unceremoniously dropped. He stared at the now mortified Severus in shock.

Before either could move or react, Lily's panicked voice called, "James? What happened? What's wrong?"

James was still staring at Severus, and he answered, hastily wiping his eyes, "Uh, nothing's wrong, Lily. Don't worry about it."

She was not to be deterred. "What was that?"

"The… cat," James said.

By this time Severus had slightly recovered, and he narrowed his eyes, waiting for the punch line. He was waiting for the hexes to fly. Mortification and furious duels were usually linked whenever Potter was near. Lily said, "That… was the cat?"

"Uhh, yes," James called.

There was silence for a moment except for Lily's footsteps on the second floor, as she apparently went to check a window to see if Bellatrix was a pile of smoking ash. Satisfied that the Death Eater had not moved, they heard her sigh and return to Harry's nursery.

Now the two men were left staring at each other. James finally stooped to gather some of Hagrid's turnips and said, not looking up from the floor, "That's quite a talent you've got there. I've never heard anything like it."

"Thank you," Severus snarled, fists curling, fingernails digging into flesh. "I'm going to kill your cat one of these days."

James looked up and actually grinned. He had stopped crying and had clearly been scrubbing frantically at his face, but there were still a few tears shining there that he had missed. He said, "Ah, she's just not used to hearing that sound emanate from a human being."

Severus glared at him. The turnips were quickly returning to their original size, which, seeing as Hagrid had grown them, was considerable. James was struggling to return them to the basket, and Severus felt no need to assist him. "You should think about renaming it. I don't know, maybe something like, 'Abomination' or 'Furie'. 'Tack' doesn't quite represent its personal charm."

"You should consider officially reclassifying yourself as a Banshee because – wait, 'Tack'? Her name isn't 'Tack'."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "It isn't?"

"No. Her name is Vivien; we call her Viviathon or Brainless, depending on what the situation-" He stopped speaking and frowned, likely recalling just who it was with whom he was having this conversation. He continued, in a decidedly harsher tone, "Where did you hear 'Tack' anyway?"

Severus crossed his arms defiantly. "That's what the boy called it."

James stood up, cradling two enormous turnips. He peered closely at Severus. "Yes, he doesn't know how to say 'cat' properly. He says it backwards. Why was he talking to you?"

"I don't know. I certainly didn't ask him to," Severus snarled.

James peered at Severus for another moment through narrowed eyes, and then sighed, and the turnips fell once more on the floor. The cat, Vivien, watched from the darkness, but one could only see her bright green eyes. James was looking out the front window again.

"I can't stand this."

Severus was confused. This was the most befuddling conversation he had ever had with James Potter. It was not an unintelligible tirade of silly insults and juvenile jinxes. They were not spitting hatred at each other like two poisonous vipers. They were not following the set pattern of their prior conversations. He longed to be alone. He itched to remove himself from the company of others. He might actually hex McGonagall if she tried talking to him today. He was weary. He had just watched James Potter cry, and then the two of them had argued about James Potter's cat. Now James Potter seemed to be on the verge of crying again, or at least he would go on feeling sorry for himself. Severus thought about reaching for the door handle. He had delivered the groceries, so why was he still standing in James Potter's hallway?

Instead of performing the disillusion charm on himself and strolling out the door, Severus said, "I'll stay. She only has four hours left. If she starts causing trouble I'll deal with it."

James looked at him questioningly. "What if she doesn't do anything, but she comes back next week when you aren't here?"

Severus hadn't thought of that. Perhaps the Dark Lord would continue to send Death Eaters who were more rambunctious, more intimidating, until finally James wouldn't be able to handle it anymore. And what if Lily tried to stop him and left the house herself? Or what if Lily was the first to crack?

"I'll talk to Dumbledore," he suggested.

"Fat lot of good that did us last time."

"No, I'll explain the situation with Lestrange. As soon as I go back to Hogwarts I'll tell him everything. And I'll come back tomorrow morning."

James stared at him. Severus stared back. "What?" he asked uneasily.

"Why are you helping us?" James asked, still peering hard at the other man.

Severus blinked. "It's a favour to Dumbledore."

James's eyes narrowed.

"Shall I put the groceries away, then? Since I'll be here for a while, might as well be useful," Severus said uncomfortably.

* * *

><p>James was lounging on his purple couch with a thick pillow balancing on his face. Severus was sitting awkwardly on the armchair he had been seated on when he had first come to Godric's Hollow. He was reading <em>Charming Chipotles: Exotic Muggle Vegetables Made Easy<em>. They hadn't spoken to each other for a couple of hours, but now and then James would glance over suspiciously at his old school enemy. Severus was pointedly ignoring him, and growing more and more uncomfortable. He was almost wishing that Bellatrix would do something so that he could remove himself from the room, just for a moment.

It got worse when Lily finally returned. "Harry's down for his nap," she said to James beneath his pillow, but she was looking at Severus curiously.

He nodded at her, not knowing what she wanted from him. He returned to chapter four: _Keeping Pixies and Knarvels out of Your Veggie Patch_.

"He's staying until Bellatrix leaves, then he's going straight to Dumbledore and then he's coming back in the morning to tell us what's going on," James said, sounding rather muffled from under his pillow.

"Oh," was all Lily said.

Severus heard the couch springs creak as Lily took a seat beside James's legs. He didn't look up from the book.

There was silence for several minutes, broken only by the sound of James punching his pillow.

"So what exactly did I miss while I was upstairs?" Lily finally asked. James took the pillow off of his head, and Severus looked up guiltily from the book.

"What do you mean?" James asked uncomfortably.

Lily stared at him.

James stared back, discomfort swiftly growing on his face.

"Your cat attacked me, and I dropped all of your turnips," Severus said. They both looked around at him, but he had returned to the book. "They're fine, though," he added, not looking up. "I suppose you'll have to learn how to like turnip stew, judging by the amount of turnips Hagrid sent you. And there'll be more next week, mark my words."

He looked up finally. Lily's eyebrows were disappearing into her hairline. James looked surprised and confused. Severus wanted to laugh for some reason, so he looked away from them, and out the window. Crabbe was looking dully back at him.

"She's gone!" Severus exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

James and Lily stood just as quickly and gawked out their front window.

"Oh, thank goodness," Lily whispered, and she squeezed James's shoulder.

"This means I can go to Dumbledore now," Severus said excitedly. "He hasn't sent anyone that dangerous – Crabbe is more likely to hex his own foot than a moving target. I'll be back before dawn tomorrow, so be sure that you're ready to let me in." He strode to the door, charming himself as he went. The Potters stared after him.

"He dropped our turnips?" Lily asked incredulously after the door clicked shut. "What the bloody hell was that about?"

James shrugged.


	4. Charity Burbage

A few days later, Severus found himself, quite unexpectedly, pacing outside of the Hospital Wing. Truth be told, this wasn't the first time he had found himself in an unexpected part of the castle while walking aimlessly. He didn't know what to make of it, but so far his new hobby hadn't led to any harm, so he allowed himself to do it.

As soon as he had returned after waiting for Bellatrix to leave the Potters' those few days ago, Severus had gone to Dumbledore. Dumbledore had acted immediately after the last words of Severus's report had left his mouth. He had stashed some hair from both Lily and James before they went into hiding to use if it was needed, and with some previously prepared polyjuice potion he had staged a sighting of the Potters in the Scottish countryside. Dumbledore had even planted some false information within the Order of the Phoenix itself, and among James Potter's closest friends, suggesting that the Potters were fleeing the country instead of using the fidelius charm.

When Severus had returned to Godric's Hollow early the next morning, he found that the headmaster's plan had worked. There was no guard outside the front window.

With several more days to go before Severus had to set foot back in the Potters' house, he found himself manically pacing in order to keep himself distracted. And for some reason, he had ended up outside of the Hospital Wing today.

Just like last night. And the night before that.

There was still daylight this time, though, and Severus was just beginning to think about retreating to his dungeon office when the door to the Hospital Wing opened. He started badly and discovered a seventh-year Gryffindor girl with messy blond hair quietly closing the door behind her.

Severus made to leave.

"Professor Snape," the girl said, just before he could turn completely away.

"Yes?" he answered curtly, not quite turning back.

She looked at him boldly, not the least bit intimidated by him. This was unusual. Even the Slytherin students were uneasy around the young potions master. They'd heard from some of the students who were in the know about these things that Snape, when considering his young age, was rather prized by the Dark Lord. "Sir, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm just wondering – what exactly are you doing out here?"

He stared at her. "What?"

"What are you doing out here?" she repeated.

"Why on earth would I have to explain myself to you?" Severus asked dangerously.

"I guess you don't," she said, just as brazenly as ever. "But if I were you, I would."

_Merlin. She has her wand out._

"What do you think you're doing?" he spat, feeling, he was surprised to note, rather alarmed.

"What do _you_ think you're doing?" she asked, raising the wand so that it was pointed directly between his eyes. "Why are you always outside the Hospital Wing? You've been here two nights in a row, and now you're here again."

"Ah! So, apart from threatening one of your teachers, you're out of bed at night. I'll have you out of this school before you can say 'expelled'."

"Are you here to kill Holly or not?" she spat.

"Who's Holly?" he asked, bewildered. And incensed. This girl was supposed to be afraid of him, and she very clearly was not in the least concerned about him or any of his threats.

"Holly Hillock," the girl said, and several angry-looking red sparks shot from her wand.

"Who's Holly Hillock?" Severus asked, and he was alarmed to find that his voice now sounded alarmed.

"Holly Hillock! The Head Girl! Your evil friends killed her entire family two weeks ago! Are you here to finish the job, or not? Answer me, or I'll hex you!"

"No! No, I'm not here to kill her! Put your wand away at once!" He was pleased to note that his voice sounded dangerous again. And that the girl actually did lower her wand.

"Then what are you doing here?" the girl asked.

Severus glared at her. "I certainly do not have to answer to you. You're coming with me. We'll have your Head of House sort this all out; it'll be the evening train for you, I expect."

The girl didn't budge. "Right. As if McGonagall is going to believe you over me." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at him smugly.

She did have a point. A rather important one, at that.

"To Dumbledore, then."

"Dumbledore might trust you, but he'll understand why I don't. In fact, when I tell him that you've been hovering outside the Hospital Wing all week, he might start to have second thoughts about you himself."

Severus could almost feel the steam that would have been exploding from his head, had that been at all possible. "Fine. Fine! Fifty points from Gryffindor, for threatening a teacher, and one hundred more for being out of bed two nights in a row!"

"I'm allowed to stay with Holly. I'm keeping her company."

The steam was more like smoke now. "Fifty points, and detention all this week, for threatening a teacher. And you had better watch your step, Miss…?"

"Burbage."

"Miss Burbage. The next time you put a toe out of line, I'll put you on that train myself!"

She raised her eyebrows at him, and then turned on her heel and went back inside the Hospital Wing.

* * *

><p>"Severus." It was McGonagall. As usual. It was always McGonagall if it was over breakfast.<p>

He turned his head ever so slightly, just enough so that she would know that he had acknowledged her. He felt like the undead this morning. He hadn't slept at all the previous night.

"You put Charity Burbage in detention all of this week?"

"Yes." He speared a hash brown rather violently. "Why do you ask?"

"She's a model student," McGonagall said, taking an angry sip of pumpkin juice. "What on earth has she done to earn her a week-long detention?"

"Are you questioning my authority, _Minerva_? I am the Potions Master, after all. I have the power to give students detention if they misbehave."

Hagrid was sitting beside Severus, and was staring determinedly up at the magical ceiling and twiddling his thumbs so as not to be dragged into the tense conversation.

Filius Flitwick was seated between Severus and McGonagall this morning. He was looking more and more like he'd very much prefer to be seated between a bear cub and the mother.

"Of course I'm not questioning _your authority_, Severus. I'm merely wondering -"

"It isn't your place to wonder, _Minerva_."

"She is my student, _Severus_."

"She is my student also."

"She's a Gryffindor!"

"Ah. So why have you got Mr. Bulstrode in detention all of this month? He's a Slytherin. I have a right to inquire."

"He cursed another student's cat!" The hall had fallen silent by this point, because McGonagall was shouting. Severus's voice was deathly quiet, but in the ringing silence his every word still carried to the end of the hall.

"I suppose that's reasonable, Minerva. But next time you have a problem with one of my students, I ask that you allow me to deal with it myself."

She had gone so tight-lipped that Severus was unsure whether she still had a mouth, and she had paled. She managed, however, to speak her next words calmly. "Allow Miss Burbage to do her detention with me, then, Severus."

Normally, he'd have been happy to do so. But he was feeling rather spiteful this morning.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. She'll do her detention with me."

He could almost feel the eyes in the hall dart from McGonagall to himself and back again.

"What do you intend to have her do?"

He thought about it. "She can scrub out the on-lend cauldrons."

"That's a dangerous job."

"She's a seventh year _Gryffindor_, and a 'model student'. She can handle it."

He wasn't paying her any more attention. The hall was still silent.

"Very well. Off to your lessons!" she barked suddenly, and immediately the hall was full of the sounds of benches scraping and whispering students as they rushed out. Severus raised his eyes from his barely-touched plate to his old Transfiguration teacher.

"I'm going to speak with Dumbledore about this," she said quietly. Flitwick looked apoplectic with discomfort as she leaned across him. "Don't even think about harming that girl."

* * *

><p>"I hear you've lately been aggravating my Deputy Headmistress and ruining everybody's breakfasts in the process," Dumbledore said with a frown and a twinkle at Severus over yet another cup of steaming tea. They sat in the Headmaster's Office. Severus was glaring at his own magenta teacup.<p>

"Can you do something about her?" the Potions Master said, hating the teacup, hating this office, and hating most of all how whiny and immature he sounded. He cleared his throat. "She's an overemotional old bag. Tell her to get a grip on herself."

Dumbledore's frown intensified.

Severus squirmed under that frown – so ordinary yet terrible also – like a child who had misbehaved would squirm under the disapproving gaze of his father.

"It is absolutely necessary for you to insult every staff member at my school?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Severus nudged his teacup to the left several inches. "Sorry," he said finally.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "If you want her to stop mistrusting you, you might consider acting in a trustworthy manner, Severus. Alas, we have not yet come to the reason for your being here tonight, though your company is of course always welcome and appreciated." Severus snorted his disbelief, but grew intrigued. Perhaps Dumbledore had some sort of assignment for him, something to take his mind off of infuriating Minerva McGonagall, her precious Miss Burbage, James "Suddenly Sensitive" Potter, and… Tack. Or Vivien, as she was normally called.

"What do you know about Regulus Black?"

Severus stared. "Why do you want to know?" Dumbledore smiled and sipped some more tea. Severus rolled his eyes. "Glad to know I'm trusted."

"You wound me," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "I happen to trust you, believe it or not, a great deal."

Severus was inclined to not believe it, but he didn't press the matter. "Regulus Black is a different kind of Death Eater than I am. But he isn't exactly like Lucius Malfoy or any of the other established pure blood family Death Eaters, either. He's a strange sort of cross between us, and something entirely different as well." Dumbledore leaned foreword, the tips of his fingers together in a thoughtful gesture. His gaze was somewhere to the left of Severus, however. "He's kind of like a pet. He doesn't do any of the dirty work but the Dark Lord keeps him close."

"Why doesn't he do the 'dirty work', as you put it?"

"I'm not sure. He's never expressed interest, I guess."

Dumbledore stared off to the left for a long moment, in which Severus took two sips of tea. Finally the Headmaster's eyes returned to the Potions Master and he stood abruptly. "Well, Severus, thank you for your company. Now, though, you're running a tad late for hosting Miss Charity Burbage's detention, which you're bound to do, since you expressed such an ardent interest this morning, I'm told."

Severus rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be politely thrown out of the Headmaster's Office. He made his was to the dungeons and thought of nothing but Lily until he was shut in his own.

* * *

><p>"<em>I told her to just forget about him, but she never listens to reason. If she did, she'd have minded me before when I told her not to waste her time on someone so incurably smug. And the time before that when I said that if he made a habit of making her cry she'd be better off giving him the old bat bogey hex. Sev? Are you even listening?"<em>

"_What? Oh. Yes. You're complaining about Mary McDonald."_

_Lily raised her eyebrows and sighed. They were sitting by the lake in the sunshine – they'd made a pact not to study for just one hour. But Severus had been mentally going through the stages of infection from a werewolf bite._

"_I'm not really surprised, Sev, that you'd be bored by my going on and on about my friends, but I thought we'd agreed -"_

"_Lily, I was just thinking, all right? I was thinking about summer."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "No you weren't."_

"_Yes I was." He gave her his best I'm-innocent-how-dare-you-not-trust-me-you-cut-me-deeply look._

"_If you were thinking about summer, and not about the three methods of banshee banishing or the symptoms of a hinkypunk bite or something, then I am Helga Hufflepuff."_

"_Well, here I was thinking you were boring old Lily Evans. How d'you do, Helga? Has Hogwarts changed any since you were last here? Also, I thought you'd _know_ this already, being a distinguished Hogwarts founder and all, but there are _four _methods of banishing Banshees."_

_Lily picked some grass and threw it half-heartedly at him. "Ugh. I just want to be done. I just want to go home and relax."_

"_Not me," said Severus, brushing grass off of his trousers. "I don't care if I have to write a hundred more exams. I'd still rather stay here for the summer."_

_Lily smiled sadly at him. "Just think, too. After this there will only be three more years for us. Then we'll have to go out into the real world."_

"_I'd actually rather not think about that, thanks."_

"_What are you going to do, do you think?"_

_Severus shrugged._

"_You should work for the Daily Prophet. You should hide in the Minister's closet and eavesdrop on all of his top secret conversations." She giggled while he glared at her. "Don't give me that look, Sev. That's a really important job. What would wizardkind do without the gossip they get from nosy reporters?"_

"_All right, then. You can be the new barmaid at the Three Broomsticks and you'll be my most trusted source."_

"_It's a deal." She leaned back and closed her eyes. Severus took the opportunity to gaze openly at her, but was quick because there was no way to know when she'd open those beautiful green eyes again. Who knew what pathetic truths were written quite obviously on Severus's face in moments like this? He wasn't sure, but wouldn't risk Lily finding him out. When she did open her eyes again, Severus was shredding grass._

* * *

><p>Severus had arrived on time to chaperone Charity Burbage's detention, and so ten minutes later when she finally knocked on the door he was perfectly willing to give her another weed. Realising that this would mean another week of his time spent with the arrogant Gryffindor girl, he elected to just dangerously mutter, "You're late," after calling for her to enter.<p>

"Sorry Professor. Peeves attacked me."

He raised an unamused eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "Don't make a habit of being 'attacked by Peeves'. Sit down." He nodded to the chair across from his desk. She sat, looking as irritated as he felt. "I have to explain your task to you, because it is a dangerous one. Do not lose focus or fail to put the utmost care in to it, because it might result in a month's worth of lying in the Hospital Wing next you your friend." She twitched a little at that, likely wishing to finish the hex she'd threatened him with the afternoon before. Still, she sat attentively while he took her through the basics of cauldron scourging. When he was done, he even demonstrated; he lifted caked and now unpredictable potion from a sad-looking ancient cauldron until it sparkled, good as new.

Charity got to work and Severus mostly ignored her. He graded what had to be the worst essays he'd ever read, save for the one he'd edited for Mulciber in sixth year, and occasionally glanced over at the girl to make sure that she was doing her job properly. He was pleased to note that she looked more and more frustrated as her allotted two hours wore on, and by the end of it she'd only managed to clean four cauldrons. Severus told her that she could go, mentioned malevolently that she shouldn't be late tomorrow, and then he was alone again. He waved his wand at the clean cauldrons and they stacked themselves neatly in a storage cabinet. He frowned at the hundred or so dirty ones and left them, even though they dampened the "charm" of his dungeon office considerably. One looked like it had been cooking blood, which had then boiled over and promptly become petrified. He didn't envy Miss Burbage that task. Perhaps he'd make her start with that one tomorrow. He smirked and returned to the dismal essays.

* * *

><p><em>NOTE: In this AU, as you may have angrily noticed, Voldie hasn't made the locket horcrux yet. I don't know why I did such a monstrous thing. Probably just because that way Regulus can be in the fic. <em>:C


	5. Skulking McGonagall

"Tomorrow."

Severus stared determinately at his shoes.

"Some of you will be joining me."

Severus stared harder.

"Some of you will simply have to experience the glory as distant spectators."

He was behind a mask, but he was always reluctant to look at the Dark Lord's red eyes if he didn't have to. _What's tomorrow? What are you going to do?_

Severus looked up when Voldemort said nothing further. Regulus was seated next to him, and he wasn't wearing a mask. He never wore a mask. It had only been a few months ago when Regulus had been a nobody who stood in the outermost circle of the Dark Lord's followers. _Why is the Dark Lord so interested in you? And why is Dumbledore?_

"Severus."

The Dark Lord had spoken finally. Severus had _almost_ jumped out of his skin. Almost.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I expect you will be busy tomorrow."

"I have lessons to teach, my Lord, but if you wish me to be with you I shall be."

The Dark Lord smiled. Always a dangerous thing to behold. "An admirable answer, Severus. But I think not. It is of course important for the young witches and wizards to receive their education." A few Death Eaters sniggered. Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement of the remark. "However, there is something that you can do for me."

"Anything, my Lord."

"You will tell Albus Dumbledore that I will attack the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. I want to be absolutely certain that the old fool won't interfere in my plans this time."

"It is done, my Lord."

"Good. I shall leave something there to meet him so that he doesn't begin to mistrust you."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Make no mistake, Severus. I do not act for your benefit. I simply require that someone is close to Dumbledore at all times. You are worthless to me if he distances himself from you."

"Of course, my Lord. I understand."

"You may go, then, Severus."

Severus rose, trying to make as little noise as possible in the eerie silence that filled the dungeon room. He swept from the Dark Lord's presence and removed his mask with an irritable wave of his wand, feeling his lungs expand with the first real breath he'd taken since arriving tonight. He was bitterly disappointed. Voldemort hadn't spoken of his plans in front of him. He considered staying for a while and trying to hear, but he knew, from the mishap with Trelawney not that long ago, that he was not at all gifted at eavesdropping. Half-filled with relief, half-filled with disappointment which was growing stronger by the second, he turned and disapparated.

* * *

><p>Severus used the fireplace at the Hog's Head to go to his office, preferring to collect himself for a moment before going to Dumbledore. He stepped out of the warm green flames and sank immediately into his amazingly uncomfortable desk chair, his head in his arms, and let out his frustration and disappointment in one long sigh.<p>

"Er, Professor…"

His head snapped up and he uttered one ridiculous syllable, "Gah!" in shock. Seated across from him was Charity Burbage.

"Should I… come back later?"

"What are you doing here?" he all but shrieked.

"Sir, it's detention tonight. Every night this week, remember?"

He stared at her with eyes that he suspected were still popping.

She frowned. "Well, I got here… _on time_," and she shot him a snide look, "and I knocked for a while but there was no answer, so I tried the door and it was open. I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't want to be accused of being late again."

He shook his head jerkily. "Very well. Get to it, then, will you?"

"Certainly, Professor." She pulled her wand out and began scouring a cauldron caked, inside and out, with some sort of chunky black substance. "Professor," she began, looking at him over her shoulder, "considering that you were half an hour late, which is no fault of mine, can I leave at ten tonight, and not ten thirty?"

"No," he snapped.

"But-"

"No."

He thanked whatever entity who looked down upon teachers and other tenuously authoritative figures that she left it at that.

But half an hour later, he was regretting his spitefulness. He had forgotten how urgently he needed to speak to Dumbledore, and now he was stuck here babysitting the obnoxious Gryffindor girl until ten thirty. He glanced over at her distastefully. She was making a face of distinct disgust as she fought with stubborn stuck-on potion that reacted in unpredictable ways with scouring and scourging charms, as well as the various potions she had at her disposal. Unfortunately, she caught him sneering at her.

"Yes, Professor?" She lowered her wand and stared at him, unabashed and expectant, frowning.

Insufferable girl.

His glare deepened. "Let's leave it here for the night."

Her own glare deepened. "Why, sir?"

He said nothing, but flashed her one dangerous look that meant everything.

She stood, a little reluctantly. "Do you still want me to come tomorrow night-"

"Yes, Miss Burbage," he snapped. "And you can come at half-passed six to make up for tonight." It gave him hidden satisfaction to watch her jaw almost fall open at her perceived injustice of it all.

But all she said was, "Yes, sir." And she turned and left without another word.

Severus waited about thirty seconds before darting out behind her, but he had to almost throw himself down a small dungeon hallway because the girl was still there, and standing with her was McGonagall.

"Why?" the miserable old hag was asking.

"He didn't say," the girl answered, "but I have to go in early tomorrow to make up for it."

They started to move away, and Severus slunk after them silently.

"And you say he was late today? I don't like it," McGonagall muttered. And Severus could barely hear her now. "I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore about this, Miss Burbage. You may return to your common room now…" They spoke a few more quiet words to each other and then went different ways.

McGonagall was having Charity Burbage give reports on him?

He hadn't been this furious since his Hogwarts days.

* * *

><p>He knew McGonagall was already in Dumbledore's office, but Severus knocked anyway. He knocked rather harder than he would normally have, but it sounded suitable like urgent knocking to him, so he allowed himself the indulgence.<p>

McGonagall was the one to wrench the door open, and the frustration on her face when she saw him mirrored that which Severus was already feeling. "What do you want?" she spat at him, glaring at him as if he were some kind of horrible insect.

He ignored her and strode passed her into the room. "I need to speak with you, Dumbledore. Now," he added the last word meaningfully.

Dumbledore had his hands folded with his two index fingers touching in front of his long nose. He peered at Severus inscrutably, but before he could say anything –

"Professor Dumbledore and I were in the middle of discussing something important, Snape -"

"Minerva," interrupted Dumbledore calmly. "Perhaps it's best if we continue our discussion tomorrow morning."

The look on her face was better than licorice wands.

Severus had to hand it to her, though, because she didn't argue. She simply said, with as much of her considerable dignity as she could muster, "Very well, Albus. Good night," and then she turned away and swept out of the office, much as her student had, just moments ago, out of Severus's office.

Severus turned to Dumbledore and couldn't help bursting into laughter. It was, it had to be admitted, a tad maniacal. Dumbledore raised a half-amused, half-disapproving eyebrow. "Was that necessary?" he said quietly.

"Yes, it was." And for the first time, Severus took the seat across from the Headmaster without needing prompting. "Let me explain why.


	6. Mimbulus Mimbletonia

Severus stifled what must have been his fiftieth yawn since arriving at the Potters' early in the morning. He had been up the entire night with Dumbledore, discussing Voldemort's meeting with the Death Eaters the previous evening. Severus had witnessed firsthand Dumbledore's efficiency and brilliance as he, never leaving his Hogwarts office, organized counter measures against whatever petty decoy attack Voldemort would launch upon the Ministry, and against whatever his real purposes might be, all while ensuring that any action his Order of the Phoenix took would correspond with Voldemort's belief that Severus was truly loyal to the Dark Lord and not to Dumbledore.

It had been exhilarating.

But more than this, Severus had felt for the first time since performing the fidelius charm that he was actually doing something useful.

He had been quite irritated at six in the morning when Dumbledore glanced at the clock and told him he'd better be on his way to the Potters', adding that first years were particularly impressionable, so he, as their Professor, should provide them with a good example and arrive to the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw lesson first thing that morning on time.

Blast his dull responsibilities – so now here he was, in the Potters' kitchen, while Lily fussed over the contents of her cupboards. James was lounging in a kitchen chair with his son sitting on his knee. James was observing Lily with an expression of mixed exasperation and amusement. The boy's expression was one of deathly seriousness. Severus was almost amused by this – their faces were so alike, apart from the obvious distinction of age and, of course, the eyes, but the child looking so solemn while the adult looked so careless tugged at strings within Severus that longed to goad him into another bout of maniacal laughter.

He was standing next to the Potters' sink, taking notes as Lily dictated a long list of goods she'd be safe storing in the cupboards with a minor invasion of doxys. She sounded extremely flustered. At the end of her list, she stroked at her chin thoughtfully and said, "I just don't know. What else can we buy that the doxys will have no interest in going through? I'm tired of charming them every other day…"

"Lily," James said impatiently, "if you'd just curse them, they would stop being a problem."

"I'm _not_ going to curse them, James!" she cried, spinning around to glare at her husband. "They're about a twentieth of my size. I'm not going to hurt something so harmless-"

"Harmless!" scoffed James. "Have you seen the bite one of those little buggers gave me right on the-"

"I'm not going to go stomping around like some giant in a muggle village!" Lily spat, her eyes gone unusually hard. "They're just doxys. I'm not going to curse them."

"All right, all right," James acquiesced with his hands at his shoulder level, palms forward in submission. The boy started to slip off his knee, but James caught him in time.

"We'll charm the little bastards, it'll give us something to do all day."

Lily scowled at him for a moment and then turned back to her cupboard. "Severus, put a mimbulus mimbletonia on the list, will you, they won't like _that_, then maybe they'll move out of their own accord."

James smacked himself in the head in apparent exasperation with his wife while keeping one hand clutching tightly around his son. "No, don't put a mimbulus mimbletonia! Lily, d'you want the entire house to reek like stinksap, especially when we can't even go outside? And where is the man supposed to find one, anyway?"

"As I recall," Lily said in a lofty tone that suggested that suddenly she had risen above this argument, "Professor Sprout was trying to grow a few. There may be some in the Hogwarts greenhouses. And anyway, I'm only trying to sort this problem out non-violently, which requires patience. If Severus has to write away for the seeds, so be it."

James mouthed at her wordlessly, and then turned to Severus. "Can you believe this?" he said, gesturing at Lily.

But Severus hadn't been paying attention. He had checked out of this conversation, which admittedly he hadn't been much of a participant in anyway, when Lily had used his first name; she hadn't done that since their fifth year.

James didn't notice that he'd had no adequate reply from Severus, however, and went on complaining about Lily's non-violent but nonetheless destructive measures of doxy removal to his son, who was still staring about as if he was in the middle of carefully extricating his leg from the mouth of a sleeping dragon.

Lily was shuffling items around, still searching for what they might be low on, when she suddenly cried, "Aha!" This caused James and Harry's faces to jump into identical expressions of startledness, which finally made Severus's strained insides force out a laugh; this he hastily (and unconvincingly, judging by the look James gave him afterward) turned into a cough. "I found where they're coming in. There, we'll put the mimbulus right next to that and when we're doxy-free, I'll block it up. And that should be all, I think," she said, closing her cupboard and turning around again.

"I'll take Harry for his bath, James," and she strode over to her husband and swept Harry up. As she headed for the stairs, she turned to Severus, looked him in the eyes, and said,

"Thank you."

Once she had gone, James sighed and got to his feet. "Er," he said, casting about for words.

Severus came back to earth and hastily wrote, "Mimbulus Mimbletonia" on his piece of parchment. He stuffed the list into his robes and prepared to be ushered out of the house.

But what James Potter said next nearly made him fall over in shock.

"D'you, maybe, want some coffee before you go?"

Severus stared at him.

"Er," it was his turn to say.

"I mean, you look tired!" James said, glancing all over his kitchen as if looking for a device to make the situation less awkward.

"I am," Severus sputtered. "But, er, Dumbledore said that I have impressionable first years to teach, so I have to be on time for class."

James stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then snorted. "Makes a good point, Dumbledore does. You'd better go then. As I recall, potions starts at the crack of nine."

Severus had a flash of recollection – himself, late for Slughorn's early class because James Potter and company had put a permanent sticking charm between his robes and the swivelling staircase.

He turned away to leave, rather flabbergasted and feeling like a portkey was trying to bring him in two different directions at the same time. But James stopped him. "Snape," he called. Severus turned. "Take a cuppa with you. We don't want you being too tired to remember that it's a mimbulus mibletonia Lily wants, not a malevolent manticore, though that'd be better, I think." And he magicked perhaps the thirtieth unwanted but secretly appreciated hot beverage Severus had been subjected to over the past month into his hand.

* * *

><p><em>It was his fourth year. Severus was clamouring up the stairs of the Quidditch pitch stands, trying not to trip on his cloak, which, as cumbersome as it was, was not managing to do its job and keep the icy blasts of November wind out. He finally reached the top, and then had to crane his neck looking for her – she said she'd be in the far stands today because she didn't want to sit near Potter's fangirls. He finally caught sight of her bright red hair and picked his way over to her.<em>

"_Hello," she said in greeting, barely looking up from the match (Gryffindor versus Slytherin). "Done the essay, then?"_

"_Yeah, it was awful. I'm not going to leave them till the last minute anymore."_

"_Sev. McGonagall doesn't want it for a week."_

"_Exactly."_

_She raised her eyebrows, amused. But overall her face still looked a little sad. She returned to staring vaguely out over the pitch._

"_What?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. "Is Gryffindor losing? Potter can't find a hoop to save his life?" He said this with a cynical half-smile, which she ruefully returned, not turning from the match._

"_Oh, I couldn't care less. But we're ahead, if you'd care to check. It's not pretty."_

_He checked anyway. 340-20, favouring Gryffindor. Some days he really loathed Quidditch._

"_Ah. Well, we'll close the gap soon enough."_

_She smiled again, but more fleetingly than ever._

_Severus and Lily usually didn't watch Gryffindor-Slytherin games together, preferring instead to sit loyally with their houses (though whoever's house won got to tease the other incessantly when they met again). Severus had hoped that when Lily suggested they sit together it was because she had finally learned to loath James Potter just as much as he did – she was never quite there, for some reason – and possibly confess to him that indeed she should have been in Slytherin after all. These had been rather small hopes, of course, but he couldn't help them. _

_Severus watched James Potter score a goal, and then, mid-celebration, _almost_ fall off his broom. "Can't catch a break," he muttered under his breath. He turned back to Lily who hadn't cheered with the rest of her house. "What's wrong?"_

"_Oh, nothing." But she fidgeted a bit as she said it. Her eyes followed Potter's zig-zagging flight around his own goal posts for a while, but she finally turned to look properly at Severus for the first time that day and said, "Sev, could you stop staring at me?"_

"_Sorry," he muttered, looking back at the match. They watched in silence for a few moments. They watched Emmeline Vance pass Potter the quaffle, and he scored yet another goal and flew several laps with his arms off his broom and straight out at his sides._

_Severus and Lily glanced at each other and at the identical expressions of annoyance they wore, and shouted as one over the thunderous Gryffindor cheers, "D'you want to get out of here?"_

_They strolled slowly passed the change rooms and the broom shed. Severus had given up pretending that he wasn't cold and was now hugging his old, tattered, and useless cloak to himself, periodically glancing at Lily. Her cloak, he noticed mid a concerned glance at her face, worked well. She didn't look the slightest bit chilly even though the winds seemed to be picking up speed. _

"_So," he began after several moments of silence, fighting to keep his teeth from chattering. "Are you ever going to tell me what's up?"_

_She ignored him._

"_I'm just going to keep staring at you if you don't."_

_She rolled her eyes, but then they lingered on him, because now he had started to shiver. _

"_Oh, come here," she ordered irritably. She seized the front of his cloak and pulled out her wand. They were standing rather close together now, and Severus would have relished the moment a lot more if he wasn't staring apprehensively at the wand she was pointing at him. _

_However, she simply swished her wand about gracefully and muttered an unfamiliar incantation, and instantly every part of him covered by the cloak felt warmer._

"_What did you do?" he asked, immensely impressed, as he pulled his cloak up to examine it – it was still flimsy, but it suddenly worked._

"_You see, Sev," Lily began, sounding lofty, but she was not quite able to fight off an expression that said she was very pleased with herself, "while you're pouring over those horrid dark arts books in the library and I have to occupy myself with other things, I read up on charms and other harmless spells that actually do some good."_

_He didn't rise to the taunt; he was still too impressed. "Brilliant," he said, his eyes shining as they stared at his cloak. She smiled even wider, and started walking again. He hurried to fall into step with her. "Hang on, I haven't forgotten - now will you tell me?"_

_She sighed._

_He waited, still staring intently at her._

_Finally, she said, "I got a letter from home this morning."_

"_Oh."_

_They walked in silence for a moment. "Petunia?" Severus prompted timidly._

"_She won't answer me."_

_Severus really couldn't understand why Lily cared – Petunia, as far as he could tell, anyway, was as unpleasant as muggles came, apart from those like his father, that was. But he appreciated that she did care, so each time he had watched Lily reach out to her older sister and be disappointed he became angry on her behalf. Lily had been trying to get a response out of her sister since their very first year at Hogwarts._

_So Severus looked over at Lily, and at her face which looked so pale and helpless whenever the subject of her sister came up – even her hair looked less vibrant than usual, but her eyes were just as bright green as always, but tear-filled – and he voiced the opinion which he had held about the matter since halfway through their second year._

"_Lily -" She looked at him quickly, challenge in her eyes even as a tear began to trickle down her face. She knew what his opinion of her sister was, and she did not approve of it. But Severus trekked on anyway. "I think, and please at least _consider_ what I'm saying here… I think maybe it would be better if you… gave up on Petunia."_

_Lily was staring at him – she was crying, but crying silently. She said nothing to stop him, so he continued, looking straight ahead rather than at her. "If you carry on trying to make it up with her and she carries on punishing you by ignoring it, all you're doing is setting yourself up to get hurt. I mean, there's only so far you can go for her, and she's got to do the rest. If she's not willing to let you in, you're just… you're just going to keep getting hurt."_

_They turned and found themselves back at the broom shed. Lily hadn't said anything in response and Severus felt that to say anything else on the subject himself would be unwise. _

_The cheering crowds not far from where they stood were chanting something that was difficult to make out; Severus stopped walking as Lily paused and turned her face towards the Quidditch pitch in order to make it out. She turned back to him with a scoff when it became slightly more loud and audible: "POTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!"_

_Severus grimaced at her, but then his glittering black eyes lit up. "C'mere," he said, and he yanked open the broom shed door. He strode purposefully into the gloom, Lily trailing him curiously. _

"_Sev!" she exclaimed when she saw what he was doing. "What -"_

_He was clamouring on to one of the school's broomsticks while grinning like a fool. "Watch this, Lily," he said excitedly. She raised one eyebrow, possibly out of trepidation – Severus was not exactly a talented flyer. Competent he may be now, but every once in a while, even now into their fourth year, he was a tad prone to disaster._

_But he kicked off the wooden floor and zoomed around the inside of the shed without incident, so Lily stood back to watch his progress._

"_Pass me a quaffle, go on," he called from near the roof._

_A small smile had appeared on Lily's face. She summoned a quaffle with an all but silent "Accio!" and tossed it to him. He slipped a little when he reached for it, but he stayed airborne and he managed to catch it anyway._

_He threw the quaffle with an unexpected force. It bounced off one of the walls, and he zoomed in circles crying, "Ahahaha! I, the incredible James Potter, have scored yet another ten points even though it's getting harder and harder to support the weight of my enormous head!" And he let his head flop all around._

_Lily grabbed a broom for herself and joined him in the air (her eyes, Severus noticed, were still wet, but they shined all the more because of it); she retrieved the quaffle in a risky dive and threw it herself. "Yessss!" she cheered, giving herself a high-five. "Ten points to Potter, I think, eh?"_

"_Definitely, Potter!" Severus answered gleefully. "Now watch as I do something stupid and death-defying but unfortunately manage not to die."_

_Lily tried to stop her giggle, but her hand was too slow for her mouth. "Sev, that's terrible."_

_He shrugged, still grinning maniacally. He hadn't missed her laughing. "C'mon, Potter. There's not much time left in the game from the sounds of it, and I don't want to miss a chance to strut around showing off."_

_They flew around like that until they heard the snitch get caught, and then they walked back into the castle, grinning from ear to ear._

* * *

><p>I used the word "cuppa" in this chapter. Ugh, I feel like a facsimile Brit. Sowwy guise. :3<p> 


	7. Dumbledore Discussions

Dumbledore was not at breakfast the next morning.

The circles around Severus's eyes were getting bigger and bigger every day. After a full day of teaching lessons and running detentions, he had been summoned to the Dark Lord's circle. That meeting had been quite as fruitless as the last one – the Dark Lord had simply gloated on and on about what they had accomplished over the day.

Severus had reported this to Dumbledore despite its relative uselessness during one of those fleeting moments in which the Headmaster was actually in the castle. Dumbledore had sighed as he listened to the reports of the gloating, and had thanked Severus and walked with him from his office, as he was returning for the fifth time to the Ministry of Magic (he couldn't use the floo network – in Voldemort's small onslaught against the Ministry the previous day, every single fireplace in the building had been demolished).

Severus hadn't slept well in the few hours he had before another round of morning lessons, and now he was sitting zombie-like at the head table, pouring over Hagrid's copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Bad, isn' it?" Hagrid said solemnly, downing his pumpkin juice.

"Mmm," Severus replied noncommittally.

The headline story was about the Ministry. No one had been killed in that attack. Severus, along with most of the students in the Great Hall and all of the teachers reading the _Prophet_, had skimmed the overblown coverage of the relatively small attack on the Ministry. The Dark Lord had sent Rodolphus Lestrange, Crabbe, and Goyle. They had met most of the Order of the Phoenix. Crabbe and Goyle had been captured. Lestrange had made a lot of trouble and had then escaped. There were plenty of injuries, most minor, one or two serious, but the most damage that had been done was to the atrium fireplaces. If you wanted to know about the Dark Lord's real target on the previous day, you had to turn to page six. There was a surprisingly small piece on Durmstrang, which had been attacked, and which had suffered the brutal murders of its Headmaster and several teachers as well as about a hundred of its students.

A Death Eater whom Severus had come to know well had been placed by the Dark Lord as the new Headmaster of Durmstrang. His name was Igor Karkaroff, and this arrangement suited him well as he was a blasted coward. He would now have only to lord over the remaining students of Durmstrang, treating them badly; teaching what the Dark Lord hoped would become a new generation of Death Eaters.

Surprisingly, although many of the students at Hogwarts had parents or other family members working at the Ministry, most seemed more concerned about Durmstrang. Severus supposed the vicious attack on a magical school made them concerned for their own safety at Hogwarts, which was also what Severus thought Dumbledore seemed so concerned about whenever he had caught a fleeting glance of him over the previous day.

Severus reached the end of the piece and handed the paper back to Hagrid, muttering, "Thanks." Hagrid shrugged sadly and patted him firmly on the shoulder before tucking the paper into an overlarge pocket and leaving the table ungracefully.

"See yeh later, Professors," he called as he stumped from the Great Hall. Severus, rubbing his shoulder gingerly, turned to grab a scoop of scrambled egg and caught McGonagall watching him beadily.

"Minerva," he acknowledged – they hadn't muttered "Good morning" to each other that day.

"Severus," she began intently. Flitwick, who was seated between them as usual leant as far back in his chair as he could, perhaps anticipating another breakfast shouting match. But McGonagall simply said, "I think that in light of this recent tragedy, we should consider talking to Albus about cancelling the upcoming Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match."

"What's the matter, Minerva? Are you worried that my students are quite obviously in better shape to win the match? Worried about a Gryffindor embarrassment?" he said calmly, and then took a bite of his egg.

"No," she said, just as calmly as he had spoken, but her lips had gone thin. "It is merely my belief that the more we can do to lessen the danger to our students, the better. Moreover, cancelling the match would stamp out the rather large opportunity for inter-house competitiveness and division, and that, I think, is something which we have an unfortunate abundance of."

Severus took a moment to chew his egg, and then peered at her, hoping to hide his surprise. "Certainly, Minerva. I have lessons to teach this morning, but before lunch I have a window of time. I was planning to speak to Albus in that window, and if you'd like I shall mention it to him then."

"That would be wonderful, thank you, Severus." She smiled at him. It looked like it was taking her a remarkable amount of effort, but she did so nonetheless. He returned it.

Flitwick looked intensely relieved, and he tucked into his marmalade-laden toast enthusiastically.

* * *

><p>During Severus's break he ducked into Dumbledore's office. The door was ajar and Dumbledore was speaking to a woman with short white hair, but he beckoned Severus to join them as soon as he caught sight of him.<p>

"Ah, Minister, this is our new potions master, Professor Severus Snape. Severus, the Minister for Magic."

"Madam," Severus said with a slight inclination of his head, feeling obscenely ridiculous.

Millicent Bagnold nodded in return without really looking at him. "I'll be off, now Albus, I think that takes care of whatnot, eh?" Without waiting for an answer she leapt to her feet and almost ran out of the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Severus, and gestured for him to sit.

"Uh," Severus muttered hesitantly as he accepted the seat, "Sorry about that."

"Not at all," Dumbledore replied with a brief and _almost_ mischievous smile. "We weren't making much progress anyway. Now, what can I do for you, Severus?"

Severus hesitated again. Dumbledore peered intently at him. "Uh. It was something McGonagall said -"

"_Professor_ McGonagall," Dumbledore politely corrected.

Severus rolled his eyes. "It was something _Professor_," and he paused to wave his hands around mystically. Dumbledore frowned. "McGonagall said at breakfast."

"Oh dear."

"Nothing like that. She wants to cancel the Quidditch match. She said we have too much inter-house competition already."

Dumbledore leaned back. "Hmm. That would indeed be wise. But the students will be fairly disappointed."

"And?" Severus asked tonelessly.

"You are a new and idealistic teacher, so you don't yet understand the great importance of keeping your students happy. The last time I cancelled a Quidditch match I'm afraid one of my more enthusiastic detractors replaced the coils in my mattress with more than one hundred dungbombs. Quite an ingenious charm, actually."

Severus stared at him. "You think I'm idealistic?"

"Certainly."

Severus continued to stare, so Dumbledore explained, "You are not, perhaps, idealistic in that you became a teacher in order to shepherd young minds into adulthood. But you are idealistic in that you think that your subject is of utmost importance and any student who doesn't show it the same interest in and respect for it that you do is criminally unenlightened or a dunderhead, rather than simply a preoccupied youth. So. You came to my office to ask me to cancel the Quidditch match. Is that correct?"

Severus hesitated once more. "Yes," he said finally.

Dumbledore leaned forward and peered intently at him again. Severus sighed.

"I was – I have… questions."

"Good."

"Well, they're not really questions. They're more like… concerns. No. They're things that I don't understand, and I don't really think I want to -"

"If you didn't want to understand, you wouldn't be asking."

"Maybe if I did want to understand, I'd be asking someone who might actually be able to help," Severus snapped. Dumbledore chuckled.

"All right, go on."

"I was… I was at James Potter's house. The other day. And he gave me coffee, and he started crying, and the cat attacked me, and the kid told me that the cat's name is Tack when it's really Vivien and they have the same face but the kid somehow looks a lot older and he has her eyes and I don't understand."

"Befuddling, indeed," Dumbledore said, and Severus was sure that he was struggling valiantly against a grin behind his deathly serious expression.

"Don't mock me, Dumbledore. I remember - all too clearly – my days at Hogwarts. I remember how James Potter reacted to me, right from the start. I remember how he treated me for seven years at this school. I understood him then. He was a stuffed peacock and a bully. He was like my father, but with magical abilities. He saw something he loathed and he attacked it."

Dumbledore was frowning. "He was also a child."

"He was still hexing me at seventeen." Dumbledore sighed. Severus continued. "I understood him back then. But when he's crying about Bellatrix Lestrange keeping watch outside of his house, or when he's giving me coffee, I can't understand. Those things just don't match with my school day perception of him."

"I might suggest, then, that you consider the possibility that James Potter has changed."

Severus scoffed, and his face appeared twisted and mad as he did so.

"You don't want to think that he has changed, because that poses problems to your slightly closed-minded images of him, and his family, and yourself as well."

"I know that he hasn't changed! Bizarrely, I suppose I got to know him and maybe he got to know me, just by antagonizing each other so often. He is still the same person! Who do you know, who among your friends and acquaintances would you say you understand?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm not sure about 'friends' and 'acquaintances', but I'd say that in battling him for so long, I've gotten to know our mutual friend Voldemort rather well."

"Good. That's good. It's as if the Dark Lord, then, walked in here right now and gave you a bouquet of roses. And there's nothing off about him, he just decided that he should give you roses. Would you be confused?"

Dumbledore gazed at Severus for a moment. "Indeed. And in that case, I believe what I would have to do is reassess my Voldemort knowledge base. I know that he fears death, I know that he has no qualms about killing, even killing the most innocent, and I now also know that once in a rare while he feels compelled to stop by and give me flowers. So perhaps he isn't as bad as I always thought he was."

Severus glared at him. "You're saying then, that he hasn't changed."

"Yes. I'm saying, instead, that there's simply a flower-appreciating side to him that I've previously not had the pleasure of seeing."

"Why, though? Why, after all of this time -"

"Perhaps circumstances have changed. He used to bring flowers to Madame Bagnold, but having destroyed the fireplaces, he must now come to me."

Severus's glare intensified.

"All right, then, Severus. Since I have seen the side of James Potter that you have previously not, I shall take the deep, dark plunge into the pretence of explaining the motivations of someone other than myself. James Potter is extremely loyal to his friends. He values them above everything. He values them at the same level as his wife and his child. Because of this situation in which he finds himself, however, he is unable to contact them. He hasn't been separated this long from his friends, especially from Sirius, since perhaps the first day they met on the Hogwarts Express. This has cost him greatly. And so, he has had to make do. At first, he resisted, likely as strongly as you are resisting now, against the possibility of befriending his old Hogwarts enemy. But time went on, and he found that life is somewhat unbearable without a friend, and so old prejudices were set aside. I think in a similar situation of desperation you too would be more than happy to set aside your old prejudices in order to call James Potter your friend."

Dumbledore sat there, gazing seriously over his desk at Severus, looking for all the world as if what he had just said made perfect sense. He did not seem to understand that he was talking about JAMES POTTER. He sat perfectly still and silent, waiting as Severus attempted to collect and organize all of the incoherent, violent splutterings which he longed to launch at the Headmaster.

It was a long moment, and Severus had just taken a breath to begin when Dumbledore suddenly declared, "I believe, Severus, you are to begin teaching a sixth year potions class in two minutes. You'd better hurry."

Severus stared at him, his mouth slightly ajar around the words he had been about to utter.

"Off you trot!" Dumbledore urged him, nodding to the door.

He took it out on the sixth years.

* * *

><p>Severus had meant to drop in on Dumbledore sometime before he was next due to visit the Potters, but in the week that followed the Durmstrang attack, the Headmaster was rarely to be found idling in his office. Indeed, Severus was sure that there were few moments, if any, in which the Headmaster was actually within the grounds of his school.<p>

"Who's there?" It was a blurry, groggy voice, the way the huge oaf's voice always was on a Sunday morning.

"It is I," Severus said in his best "intimidating Potions Master" voice.

"Righ' lotta good that does me," Hagrid complained, wrenching his door open and glaring down at him. "Oh, it's you. Come in, come in."

Severus swept in and stood in the middle of the hut, which smelled like regurgitated firewhisky, which roused embarrassing memories, and stared imperiously up at Hagrid. "Hurry up, I have a schedule to keep to."

"Ooh, a ruddy schedule, have yeh?" Hagrid muttered, rubbing his eyes with one giant hand. "Blasted little…" The rest of his tirade was lost under his breath. Severus rolled his eyes and waited. Hagrid slowly and painfully packed up some eggs and some more wretched turnips into a basket and placed a cloth lovingly over top of them.

"Is that it?" Severus asked sarcastically when Hagrid finally thrust the cursed thing into his hands.

"That's all," Hagrid mumbled. "And nex' time go see them at a decent hour, eh? Or at least be pleasan' when you come callin' early." Without another word he slumped onto his overlarge bed. Severus's lip curled surveying him for a moment, and then he stalked out of the hut, hardly bothering to close the door behind him.

He was disillusion-charming himself as he stepped into the cold. Now for the fun part.

Pomona Sprout, like McGonagall, had been at Hogwarts forever. And, like McGonagall, she wasn't particularly fond of Severus. He thought it best if he wasn't spotted skulking around in her greenhouse.

He undid the protective charms on Greenhouse three's door – Sprout cast them so that teachers would be able to go in whenever they wanted, bless her – and he opened the door just wide enough to slide in through. Whatever Hagrid might say, eight was not the earliest of hours, but it was still dark because of the miserable weather. There would be snow on the ground by that evening. Severus peered into the gloom. Across the aisles of work benches and plants, the venomous tentacula shivered and began to wave slowly, sensing his presence. Something else emitted a small hissing noise, and every plant in the greenhouse seemed to shrink slowly, sheepishly, back to the size he was used to seeing them in the light.

Hmm. Plants were a little bit scary, come to think of it.

* * *

><p>Lily was the one who answered the door when he knocked not long after prowling around in the dark greenhouse. She stared right through him, as he was still disillusion charmed, and started when he whipped Hagrid's basket and a small grocery bag into which he had somehow shrunk several boatloads of groceries out from under his cloak and thrust them at her.<p>

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just in a rush."

"Of course," she replied hesitantly, taking the bag and basket from his invisible hand.

"And this is the mimbulus," he said unnecessarily, handling the shrunken plant with considerable trepidation. He was not interested in being stinksapped.

She took it gingerly from him, and then took a step backwards, away from him, into the house. "Are you sure you don't-"

"Quite sure," he replied, feeling like an idiot. "I have classes to teach."

"All right then. Take care."

"I'll see you in two weeks."

He was gone before she closed the door.


	8. Charity's Breakfast

She had signed up to stay for Christmas break this year, and her mother had sent her an angry letter. Well. "Angry" wasn't the word, really. Charity's mother had sent her a _furious _letter. "Listen to this," she said distastefully, and read her letter in a high, shrill, and completely inaccurate imitation of her mother's voice, "'_If you think that you can just ignore your mother like this, then I don't even know why I bothered scouring the shelves in _Flourish & Blotts _looking for that stupid book on Muggle welfare that you wanted…' _Ugh, mom, ask the shop attendants! She's so _dramatic_. But hang on, it gets better. '_And I don't suppose you care whether He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named murders your father and I in our sleep, but as this is probably the last time that we shall be corresponding, please know that I love you very much, oh ungrateful child of mine, and Happy Christmas to you and your buggering little more-important-than-your-family-who-LOVE-you friends! Love from your mother, or have you already forgotten me you ungrateful fruit of my loins.'_" She scoffed and scrunched the note up into a tiny ball. "You used the word "ungrateful" twice in two sentences, mum! And can you believe her? '_as this is probably the last time we shall be corresponding…' _As in, she's so angry that I'm staying at Hogwarts to be with Holly that she's disowning me or that she really thinks she's going to be murdered in her sleep and she wants to pack in as much spite towards her only child before that happens?"

"Don't ask me. All I know about your mother is that she's completely off her rocker," answered her friend Kitty as she charmed her fingernails.

"Can you not do that at the table?" Charity complained. "Your… _debris_, as I'd call it, is getting in the rutabaga, which happens to be the only vegetarian dish I can reach from here."

"Well, I'll pass you the squash, then," Kitty retorted.

'Oh, don't bother, it's too late, my appetite is gone. Between you getting your nails everywhere and my over-dramatic mother I've quite lost the will to live. I think I'll just let myself starve to death."

"You're going to Hogsmeade later?" Kitty asked, completely unconcerned.

"Yes. I said I'd take Holly."

"Oh God. Why does she want to go? I wouldn't if I were her."

"I suggested that she should –"

"Charity."

"Don't start with me, Kitty. She needs to go outside. She needs to have a butterbeer, and to be around people again."

Kitty sighed. "Well, as long as you're not forcing her, I guess. I was going to say we could meet at Madame Puddifoot's –"

"I'm not interested in being your cover while you hex Perry and his new girlfriend over my shoulder."

"That's not what – just for coffee, Charity!"

"Sure. Just for coffee. I definitely believe you. We could meet at the Three Broomsticks, though, you, me, Holly. And everyone else –"

"Oh, no, don't, please, I can't stand to be around her. It's too depressing."

Charity glared at her. "Thanks for your support, wonderful human being whom I am so glad to be able to call my best friend."

"You know I'd love to help, but I don't know what to say to her! I'm afraid I'll make everything worse."

"Don't worry about it. Just be casual. Talk about Christmas shopping –"

"I can't talk about Christmas shopping. Hey, look what I bought my mum, I picked this out for my dad, and this out for my brother, oh wait, Holly, I'm sorry, you don't have those anymore, do you? Well, sorry for rubbing it in your face like that. Come on, Charity! It'll be a disaster!"

"Well then don't talk about Christmas shopping! Please, Kitty? If everyone keeps acting weird around her she won't start to feel better."

"Why should she feel better?" Kitty retorted. "She lost everything. Let her stay in bed. Trust me, you'd be doing her a much better favour."

Charity turned pointedly away from her friend. "I don't believe that. She'll never be all the way better, but she's young and she has a lot more of life to live. We have to help her."

"If it were me," Kitty said quietly so that Charity had to lean closer to hear, "I'd wish that You-Know-Who had got me too. I'd wish that that slimy potions professor would just hurry up and finish the job."

Charity looked over at Snape, sitting at the Head Table. He wasn't eating either, but was engaged in sporadic and quiet conversation with Hagrid. Their eyes met briefly. Snape looked away first.

"You know that's why he's here," Kitty whispered, her eyes on him too.

"Whatever, Kitty," Charity scoffed, giggling. She looked back at her friend, who was now wide-eyed.

"No, seriously. Why else would he want to work for Dumbledore? He's just gaining his trust so that he can –"

"What, kill the Head Girl? You think You-Know-Who stationed Snape here so that he could murder a seventeen-year-old witch?" Charity had apparently forgotten that she had once accused Snape of having those very intentions. She giggled again, looking back at Snape. He was taking a bite of breakfast sausage, looking completely bored. "He just seems dangerous, but obviously he can't be, if Dumbledore hired him."

"He's hoodwinked Dumbledore," Kitty hissed, her eyes even wider than before. "Everyone says so."

"How can he possibly have? He's got to be less than twenty-five!"

"He probably learned how to from You-Know-Who. He knows all of this dark magic that Dumbledore's never even _dreamed_ of," Kitty said mysteriously.

"Come off it, Kitty, there is no way some young wizard could have gotten one over on Dumbledore!" Charity said, flushing now. She didn't know why she was so vehement all of the sudden, but she did notice that she was getting louder with every word. Some students had turned around to look at her after her last outburst. "I'm going back to the common room. I'll see you at the Three Broomsticks later," she said, and without waiting for Kitty's response, she flounced off.

She was turning the corner on her way out of the Great Hall when she noticed that Snape was watching her leave, and his eyes were slightly narrowed.

* * *

><p><em>Don't ask me why I named a character "Kitty". Probably because my cat walked past and that's about as imaginative as I could manage to be at this time of the night.<em>


	9. Magic Music Moose

Dumbledore was mad. Exceptionally, infuriatingly, and admiringly - in an unfortunate way - mad.

Severus was seated in Dumbledore's office, staring dumbstruck at the Headmaster's beaming face. "But… but…" But he couldn't find any other words. To compensate, he flung his arms wide in a gesture that he hoped would say it all.

"Yes, quite," Dumbledore replied, still beaming.

"But how is this possible?" Severus spluttered. "How did you manage it?"

"Oh, the same way I manage a great many other brilliant things, I expect." Severus just glared. "Oh, go on, then. But don't tell Voldemort." Severus rolled his eyes. "I happen to have the acquaintance of a former student, you see. Well, he of course would be no help whatsoever, but I spoke with his very charming sister, and she was happy to be of assistance. I suspected that she might have been the same sort of student that your friend James Potter was," Severus glared harder, "judging by her brother's record. And that, Severus, is always a dangerous judgment to make. Siblings can often surprise you. However, this time the gambit worked. She knew more about Durmstrang's secrets than I could possibly have hoped for. So, with the assistance of some very trusted and capable Order members, in the dead of night, we stole into the school, we roused the students, and we stole right back out again."

Severus stared. "That's… well, that's brilliant." Dumbledore beamed again. "But the Dark Lord was _furious_. I've never seen him so angry."

"Alas, a necessary consequence. Who did he take it out on?"

"Your favourite, actually. Regulus Black."

"_Really?_"

"Yes. I was also surprised."

"Hmm. That does not bode well." Severus sat up a little straighter, but Dumbledore said no more on the subject. "So, I can count on you to help the Durmstrang students get adjusted to their new home, can I?"

"Of course. They're doing well on their own, though. You'd have thought they'd never seen food before."

"Excellent. Please keep me informed. Now. I have something here for James which I thought you could bring to him. I'm sure that when he sees it he won't mind that I haven't bought him anything new for Christmas. And I have a book for Lily, a rather good one, and something of my own design for Harry. I'll give them to you now, so that you'll have them ready for when you visit the Potters for the last time before Christmas, shall I? In case circumstances keep me away. What's wrong, Severus?"

Severus was horrified. Christmas shopping! How could he have forgotten? "No, I'm fine. I'll take those with me now, sure." Without another word he seized the three packages and practically ran out of Dumbledore's office.

* * *

><p>Christmas shopping! They'd expect him to do their Christmas shopping! Not for their friends, surely, and if so he'd put his foot down, it would be too dangerous. But how could he weasel his way out of shopping for them, for the boy?<p>

That was indisputably asking too much of him. He simply could not do the Potters' Christmas shopping. He would not.

And he was supposed to see them the next morning, for the first time since he had shoved their shopping into Lily's arms while still invisible, all over that preposterous idea of Dumbledore's that James Potter was starting to consider him a friend. What was he supposed to do, when Lily looked at him with those eyes of hers and said, "Well, I think he could really use another sweater, yes, a Christmas sweater with a smiling hippogriff in a heart on the front."? He was NOT going to buy James Potter a Christmas hippogriff heart sweater!

And what would people say if they saw him shopping in the children's section? The Dark Lord may not believe him capable of treachery and loyalty to Dumbledore, but if he caught him rummaging through a bin of teddy bears he might start to get suspicious. Not that the Dark Lord frequented shopping centers, but _somebody_ was bound to notice him doing very un-Severus Snapelike shopping, and in these times people would use whatever information they could to have leverage over others.

Severus paused, looked around to confirm the hallway he was currently stalking through was completely empty, and gave up, sagging miserably against a wall – which turned out to be the trick wall, and he tumbled right through it, thus giving four or five first years the shock of their lives.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Severus was still smarting from landing on a game of Exploding Snaps. He was standing, completely disguised, on the Potters' front porch, having a very difficult time making himself ring the bell. How was he supposed to walk away from this without a list, the top of it reading "Christmas hippogriff heart sweater"? He clenched his fists for a moment, hoping to relieve his irritation and anxiety, but when all that happened was that his fingernails bit into his palm, he grunted and rang the doorbell.<p>

Like the last time, it was Lily who answered. She started uncertainly through Severus. He cleared his throat. "It's me."

"Ah," she said, as though she hadn't already been aware of that. "Would you -" she paused, looking even more uncertain than she had before. "Um, would you like to come in? We made cookies. You could help us eat them, there are rather a lot. That is, if you aren't busy, and if you are of course we can just quickly -"

"No, I'm not, uh, busy, no. I have plenty of time today, I can come in. Sorry about last week, again, I had… classes, to prepare for, and Dumbledore was -"

"Not at all, we don't want to be a burden, although, how can we not be, I mean, with all that you're – please, come in, you've been on the porch long enough!" She stood back and Severus slid through, un-charming himself as she shut the door quietly behind him. She took his coat, and as she put it away in the closet she said, so quietly he almost missed it, "I'm glad you can stay, James was a little disappointed when he missed you last week."

_What?_

Severus blinked several times, hoping that any shock and horror which may have registered on his face might be blinked away. Lily didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong, though. She just smiled and gestured towards the kitchen. "The cookies are in there… We're a little early this year, but there hasn't been that much else to do, you know."

Somehow he made it into the kitchen. James Potter was sitting at the table with his back to Severus, but judging by the short, chubby leg ending in a tiny shoe sticking out over his lap, he was holding his son. He turned when he heard them.

"Ah, it's you."

"Who else would it be?" Severus managed to ask.

James Potter laughed, and made no retort. Instead he said, "Did you see how we've been keeping ourselves busy?" He gestured at the table in front of him. "Sit down. Start eating, please, or Harry and I will turn into beluga whales or something just as big."

When Lily had said that there were "rather a lot" of cookies – well, that didn't quite cover it. The entire kitchen table was covered in a heaping mound of them, obviously charmed to stop from cascading onto the floor. As he awkwardly took his seat, the timer went off and Lily pulled yet another batch of chocolate broomsticks from the oven.

"You'll have to take some back with you. And take some for Hagrid and Dumbledore," Lily said as she levitated the hot cookies on to a cooling rack.

James grinned. "And that's about all we can give them, what with being cooped up inside this house. No twice-around the Leaky Cauldron line-ups at Diagon Alley this year. And no beating Margarene Pyggleton over the head with a comedy bicorn horn in a race to buy the last toadstool shiner in Hogsmeade; too bad, Lily."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That was _not_ me. I don't even use toadstool shiner, and I certainly don't know anyone who does."

James grinned slyly at her. "But they were marked down by seventy-seven percent, surely that's reason enough to send poor old Margarene to St. Mungo's with a great plastic thing welded to her nose."

"Ugh," was Lily's only reply, and she swatted the air as if discouraging a bothersome fly.

"So how is it out there this year?" James asked, turning back to Severus, who was unfortunately in the middle of chewing an overlarge bite of a ginger newt, which he had taken to distract himself from the coexisting feelings of discomfort and irritation brought on by being in the Potters' kitchen as a guest, which were only exacerbated by the smarting Exploding Snap wounds, and now Severus wished that he had let Madam Pomfrey look at them instead of flapping ludicrously at her until she finally gave up and yelled at him for being ridiculous.

He tried to swallow some of the newt, and said, "I nnudnunt gno, gni dunnut gno nnn shulps."

James raised an eyebrow. "Well, that clears that up, thanks."

Severus swallowed properly, and glaring, said, "I haven't been out much."

"Ah," James said, leaning back in his chair and setting the boy on the floor. The boy happily stomped off – Severus didn't know one could stomp with all four limbs while crawling, but evidently it was possible – and James's face lit up with that familiar mischief, or evil, Severus was more inclined to call it. "Do Death Eaters have a Gift Grab? Do you get killed if you steal a gift from Bellatrix?"

"James," Lily said wearily, elongating the name so that it was more of an admonition than anything else.

"What?" James replied, elongating the word to match Lily's admonition. "I'm just having some fun. He understands, don't you, Snape?"

_Not one bungling little thing._

But James didn't even look around for Severus's answer. Instead, he and Lily argued some more, laughed about what they'd buy for all of James Potter's friends if they could. They swapped stories about Christmas shopping and lamented their inability to partake in the fun, though Lily noted that Christmas was probably not very jolly this year, what with the war escalating the way it was. Though once in a while he was required to nod, assent or dissent, and smile – stiffly, though neither Potter seemed to notice – Severus stuffed more and more ginger newts into his mouth in hopes of eating the whole blasted table full of cookies so that he could leave. Neither Lily nor James seemed at all aware of how uncomfortable he was, and neither of them seemed the least bit discomfited by the fact that a man who had been, a few short months ago, their enemy was now sitting at their table eating their Christmas cookies. Then the boy seized two chocolate broomsticks and stuck them in his ears, declaring loudly, "I mah-zic moo-sic moose, mummy, I mah-zic moo-sic moose! Zoom, zoom, zoom, boom zoom boom boom moose yum yum yum moose yummy yummy," and he subsequently yanked one of his "antlers" out of his ear and began to eat it. Severus seized his chance.

He cleared his throat as Lily and James looked at their son with a mixture of astonishment and alarm. "I should, er, be going, but thank you for the cookies."

"Not a problem, we've got plenty more," James said, grinning at the mound which, despite Severus's best efforts, was still mounding over the kitchen table.

"Before you go," Lily began, turning to one of her cupboards. _Here we go_, thought Severus with dread. "I'll put together two baskets for Hagrid and Dumbledore." She turned back, holding two festive containers in her hands and looking much more uncomfortable than the prospect of making up two baskets of cookies warranted. _Uh oh_. "And, Severus, well, we were thinking – we were thinking that maybe –"

"We were thinking that maybe you could join us for Christmas dinner, only if you want to, of course," James interrupted casually, raising his eyebrows at Lily's discomfort. "We know you've got a Hogwarts feast to attend, so obviously if you'd rather just stay there for Christmas, well, no hard feelings, but Christmas coincides with your next visit anyway, and we're starving for a little company here."

_This is what it must feel like to be permanent-sticking charmed to the ground in front of a charging manticore. _"Er," Severus said, without knowing what might come out next – a violent bout of laughter, some curses, some swearing…. "I'll have to get back to you on that. Dumbledore will expect me to – and the Dark Lord might summon me to – and I'm supposed to show up at my mother's – but I might find some time in between all of that, and Hagrid will probably have something obscenely huge for the boy – so perhaps I'll drop in, but don't make formal plans around me."

"Thanks, that information will really be a big help in trying to plan a magnificent Christmas dinner," James said snarkishly, "but we're glad you can make it."

Lily handed Severus the two baskets of cookies and smiled at him. "We'll _try_ to be as good as Hogwarts."

"It'll be difficult if everything's covered in stinksap," James said, prodding the Mimbulus in his cupboard distastefully.

Severus left them putting away their new groceries carefully away around the Mimbulus, and he as he left he tried valiantly to give himself a stroke.

* * *

><p>"Dumbledore."<p>

"Severus?"

"I cannot be James Potter's friend."

"I suppose you cannot."

"I hate him. I've always hated him."

"Yes you have."

"And he's married to my – I just, I just _hate_ him."

"And so you've said."

"Dumbledore."

"Severus?"

"I _cannot_ be James Potter's friend!"

* * *

><p>In the end, Severus went to the Potters' for their Christmas dinner. And it was not unpleasant.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Merry whatever you may be celebrating, and I shall see you all happy and well-celebrated in the new year!<em>


	10. Only So Much

_You'll recognize the following flashback if you've read OotP. I tweaked it, but it's still JKR's. _

_*Edited for brevity, or something._

* * *

><p>"<em>LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted, her wand pointing at Potter.<em>

"_Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said Potter._

"_Take the curse off him, then!"_

_Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Severus and muttered the counter-curse. "There you go," Potter said, as if he was speaking to a child who he'd just pat several times on the head, as Severus struggled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"_

_And then he'd said it. "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"_

_Lily blinked._

_That was it._

"_Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you,_Snivellus."

"_Apologize to Evans!" Potter roared, his wand once again pointing threateningly at Severus._

"_I don't want_you_to make him apologize," Lily shouted at Potter. "You're as bad as he is."_

"_What?" yelped Potter. "I'd NEVER call you a - you-know-what!"_

"_Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can - I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."_

_She turned and hurried away. _

"_Evans!" Potter shouted after her. "Hey, EVANS!"_

_But she didn't look back. She hadn't looked back at either of them._

An older Severus was, once again, sitting with his aching head in his hands in his office.

He had replayed this particular memory in his head only a few times over the years; he hated to revisit it. It wasn't the bullying – he had no end of memories in which James Potter and company tormented him. Some of them he liked because once in a while he had managed to pull one over on them, but he was usually outnumbered and those experiences were never pleasant to look back on. This memory was a lot worse, and that was why he hadn't thought about it since the day he joined the Death Eaters. He had been humiliated and impotent in his rage, and he had lost Lily's friendship permanently.

He could never forgive himself or James Potter for that. Forcing himself to remember it now, as fully as he could, made this inescapably clear.

* * *

><p>He knocked on their door. Potter answered.<p>

"Hi. We weren't expecting you today. Actually I was at first a little bit nervous that you might have hated the Christmas turkey so much that you'd sold us out, but I can tell by your staunch silence and the faint Snivelly aroma that it's you, which is actually quite comforting, believe it or not."

Severus's brow creased at the use of the old "affectionate" nickname. It was almost as if Potter somehow knew that Severus had taken a trip down memory lane.

"Why don't you come in?" Potter asked, moving backwards into the house.

"Actually, I was thinking we could talk out here, since I don't have anything for you today."

Potter's eyebrows lifted. "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

By way of answer, Severus undid the disillusionment charm, slowly becoming visible standing on the Potters' front porch. "There's no one here. I checked," he said quietly.

Potter frowned. "What are you playing at?"

"C'mon, Potter, are you afraid to take two steps outside your cozy little house?" Severus _almost_ smirked as Potter started in shock and irritation at the accusation of cowardice. He knew how his old enemy worked.

Potter glared at him, but quietly stepped outside and shut the door behind him. "What do you want, Snape?"

"What I want, Potter, is to make something perfectly clear." He paused, smirking lazily, watching Potter grow more irritated by the second.

"All right," Potter began, apparently doing his best to contain his anger, even though he was nearly baring his teeth at this point. "What is it? What's so important that you're dragging me outside to tell me?"

Severus looked at him. Nothing had changed, really, since the day he'd first met Potter on the Hogwarts Express. He still had that air of having been pampered and well-cared for. His hair was still as messy as it had always been, his face still shone with the kind of arrogance you might attribute to a fussily-kept garden if the flowers could stare down at a weed that had dared grow in their presence contemptuously.

"I hate you, Potter."

Potter blinked.

"I've always hated you."

Potter rearranged his shocked features into an expression that looked slightly less like one a twenty year old wizard in glasses who had just strolled into the middle of an acromantula colony might wear. "I know that!" he sputtered.

Severus stared at him for a moment, and then he seemed to explode. "Of course you know! You know what it's like for me to be waiting on you like this! You know how much I despise being in your house!" Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, Severus was regretting his sudden descent into hysterics, but the wild, almost deranged look on his face as he lunged towards his childhood enemy masked any potential for rational thought behind it to the outside world. James Potter at least seemed convinced of Severus's newfound insanity; he whipped his wand out and held it inches from his old enemy's chest.

"What's WRONG with you?" Potter yelled, and now he really was baring his teeth.

"WHY DON'T YOU HEX ME?" Severus roared. "YOU NEVER SHOWED ANY RESTRAINT WHEN WE WERE AT HOGWARTS! GO AHEAD! DO IT! WHAT'S STOPPING YOU? I DON'T EVEN HAVE MY WAND OUT! OR ARE YOU STILL TOO COWARDLY TO ATTACK ME WHEN YOU'RE NOT WITH YOUR STINKING FRIENDS?"

"I'm warning you," Potter said through gritted teeth. "I'm warning you, Snape. If you don't calm down -"

The door crashed open and both Severus and Potter whipped around. Lily stood in the doorway staring at them. "What's going on?" she yelped.

Severus and Potter looked at each other. Then, simultaneously, Potter lowered his wand and Severus backed away from him.

"What are you two -" Lily began, but Severus interrupted her.

"From now on, you'll leave your lists on the front door, and I'll leave your supplies on the porch. There's no need for anything more than that."

He pointed his wand at himself and faded into the street behind.

* * *

><p>The Owlery.<p>

Of all the places, this.

Severus had never been overly fond of owls, but they were a delight compared to students who'd be here on an early morning during the Christmas break sending letters. And of all the students who might have been sending a letter this morning, it would of course have to be Charity Burbage.

"Good morning, Professor," she said apprehensively, staring at his agitated face.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped.

She stared at him some more. "I'm sending a letter to my mother. And an essay to the Daily Prophet. What are you doing here, Professor?"

_Throttling you, if only the universe were just!_

He glared down at her and said dangerously, "I don't know why we have to keep going over this, Miss Burbage, but once again I shall tell you that I am not subject to your – you wrote an essay to the Daily Prophet?"

"Yes. I read their opinion piece on safety among one's own kind during war times and thought that their editor could use a quill-lashing." She said this in a peppy, lighthearted tone while fastening her second letter, which looked like "rather a lot" of parchment, as Lily Potter might have called it, to a large brown owl.

Severus rubbed his temples. "What kind of mind-numbing dunderheadedness do they poison your food with at the Gryffindor table? What would convince you that by writing one essay you could right all of the wrongs in this world, Miss Burbage?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I'm not trying to right all of the wrongs in this world, Professor. I'm just hoping that those bigots at the Daily Prophet will read enough of my essay to be forced to confront the fact that they are all a bunch of cowardly fools."

Severus glared at her. "Give me that." He held out his hand and waited. She stared at him defiantly.

"Why?" she asked, and after too long a pause she added, "Sir?"

"Because I told you to," he snarled.

She pried her letter from the owl's claw and handed it to him, the defiance in her face growing stronger as she did.

He set the letter on fire and dropped it, letting it burn and crumple at his feet. She stared at it, and then returned her gaze to his face. "You didn't even read it!" she snapped, which seemed to Severus an odd trifle for her to complain about.

He smirked at her fury even so. It made him feel a little bit better. "If the Prophet had published it, you'd be a target. In fact, if anyone at the Prophet had even started to read it, you'd be a target. Don't be an idiot, Miss Burbage."

"I'm not afraid of You-Know-Who!" she yelled after him as he swept from the room.

"Yes you are," he muttered.

* * *

><p>"Go over it again," ordered Lily sternly. "What did you say to him?"<p>

"I TOLD you," James replied irritably, "I didn't say ANYTHING! He just forced me to talk to him on the porch and then he lost his mind!"

"Well, what was he saying?" Lily asked.

"He was talking about Hogwarts," James replied, somewhat evasively.

Lily raised her eyebrows at him.

James relented. "Lily, you know that I – well, I'm not – _proud_. Of course I'm not proud of the way that – but I never became a Death Eater. If we're prepared to trust him knowing what he's done, knowing that he worked for Voldemort, then why can't he get over what happened when we were both kids?"

Lily sighed. "I think he can, James. But maybe he can't… like you. He can ignore that he doesn't like you enough to keep you alive, but maybe he just can't be your friend. He isn't the most _flexible_ of people, you know."

James looked at her intently. "You were his friend once, weren't you?"

She raised her eyebrows at him again. "I thought you already knew that."

"No. We all thought you had a self-destructive fondness for him, the same way that you always liked Mrs. Norris. And that you were using him for Potions tips."

Lily snorted. "You four never could just accept the fact that I brewed better potions than you."

"Or that you could hang around that close to _Snivellus _risking nausea just for the heck of it," James added helpfully. Lily glared at him. "Oh calm down, I'm just messing around, Lily. So. What happened?"

Lily opened her mouth but said nothing; faint notes of the "Magic Music Moose" song Harry had written floated through the floor from his nursery. They listened until he stopped singing again.

"He insulted me," Lily said simply. "Called me 'Mudblood'."

James popped a chocolate frog into his mouth. "Oh yeah, I was there for that," he said flippantly while he chewed. "You're telling me he never called you that before?"

"Never."

"So… when he came crawling back to you…."

"He came to apologize almost immediately. But I'd had enough. It wasn't just that he lost control, it was that he had to keep that control in the first place. He was set on the path to becoming a Death Eater, so why should I have bothered? There's only so much disappointment you can take from one person."

"I guess so," James said uneasily, staring down at his hands.


	11. Disappointment

There is only so much disappointment you can take from one person.

But "disappointment" wasn't really the right word.

He used to sneer, and the expression would twist his face so that he looked like Petunia when she was trying to be unpleasant, like Petunia all the time, actually, as long as Lily was in the room.

The thing about Petunia and Severus – both of them, oddly and fittingly enough – was that their smiles were the best thing about them. As the years had gone by, it was harder to see Severus really smiling, so when he did it was something special. Reflecting on it now, Lily realized that she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smiling. And when Lily had been able to make her sister smile, she would fill up fit to burst with pride. Her older sister, who she had idolized and adored – it was difficult to make her laugh, she was more fearful and had more envy in her than Lily, and that made her the true test. Their parents were incurably delighted by anything the girls ever did, and Lily had begun to doubt the sincerity in their delight early on. When her mother smiled at her, it was nice, but when Petunia smiled at her…. That was when she'd done something right.

She'd heard that Severus had taken to wandering the corridors at night, cursing the suits of armour, and if he caught glimpses of them, he'd take a shot at a cat or even at a house-elf. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Sylvie told her. But Sylvie knew because Celia heard it from Edmund Plicky who frequented empty corridors, classrooms, broom closets, and so on, with Olivia Greengrass, and they'd seen him at it. As had Sylvie's friend's sister, as had Sylvie's annoying cousin, and Sylvie heard from Flavius who had been in detention for Filch at the time for stuffing dungbombs into the teacher's lounge wardrobe that Severus was there for trying to hex Mrs. Norris.

Lily had never brought it up with Severus. She knew that Sylvie was an incurable gossip and rarely talked at all if it wasn't to chew over some sordid tidbit about somebody else, but the problem Lily had was that like it or not, Sylvie always knew everything. Sylvie was never wrong, exactly…. But she exaggerated, and sometimes she was a little bit off, so Lily had tried to filter it all out and really, Mrs. Norris was kind of a pain anyway – obviously Lily would never do anything to her but Severus had never been as tolerant as she was. It was possible that it was just Mrs. Norris, and if it was just Mrs. Norris then it wasn't such a big deal….

But he sneered. And she watched him across the hall from her, eating with Mulciber and Avery, muttering with them, and they would stop muttering as one, casting suspicious looks when anyone walked near them, and sometimes she'd see them sniggering unpleasantly together… and she wondered.

She wondered what they were laughing about.

There was the time that she saw them by the lake while she was taking a study break just before the Transfiguration OWL. She had watched – once in a while one of them would point their wands at the sky, and she eventually realized that they were trying to shoot down birds.

She hadn't said anything, not even then. Once or twice over fourth and fifth year she had _tried_ to reason with him about his new friends, but he would just brush her off or change the subject. Eventually, she stopped trying.

They saw less and less of each other. She was disinclined to go anywhere near him if Mulciber or Avery were about. She had wondered vaguely if it was because she was afraid of them. She eventually she realized that although she was, she was mostly afraid that if she approached Severus with them she might catch a few of their words and would finally learn for sure whether Sylvie and all the rest of her friends had been right about him.

For his part, he didn't approach her or even look at her if she was among her friends, who hated him anyway, and he them. He was even less approachable if James and the Marauders were near, which was anytime she was at the Gryffindor table. This was of course understandable. She worked it out of him purely by accident in their second year. He was growing redder and redder, and she thought it was because he fancied someone and it was making her laugh, but then he told her, gruffly, and in sentences that were rather short, that they picked on him, and she believed him immediately though they had only ever been unpleasant to him in front of her, and that hadn't been noteworthy at all. They had been constantly unpleasant, in those days.

About a week after Severus's confession, James and Sirius attacked him in public, and she finally saw it for herself. They had tended to do this less often, preferring to catch Severus in a secluded part of the castle, or with only a few choice audience members, because then there was little risk of teacher or ghost intervention.

Increasingly they began attacking him in public – by fifth year James had realized that provoking Lily was one of the best ways to get her attention. By seventh year he had learned a few much better ways of getting her attention, her more favourable attention at that – but after Easter of fifth year it seemed that not a week would go by without James or his friends pouncing on Severus within her eye line.

This did not excuse Severus.

In the moment by the lake after the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL, everything shifted. James had reached a low point with her, and from that moment on he had only improved. It was very slow at first, admittedly. It definitely wasn't until seventh year that she started to actually like him, but she certainly had grown to hate him less through sixth year.

Severus had also reached a new low with Lily that day. She had cried. Not for long, but she had cried violently. She forced it all out so that she could move on. It was hard to let go, but what other choice did she have? Severus was not her child. She could not discipline him for being hateful. She could not change him, though she had wished that he would change on his own. She knew now that he wasn't going to. She had only her friendship to give him, and she had given it for years, as he grew increasingly unpleasant, but he had forfeited it that day. There was only so much she could take.

He may have been a part of a minor rebellion with some other pre-Death Eaters in seventh year. As Voldemort grew more powerful and collected more powerful followers in the Wizarding community outside of Hogwarts, tensions increased within the school walls. Muggle-born students were hexed once in a while in crowded hallways. The school was vandalized – Death Eater slogans and Dark Marks were painted all over the walls, and in the most grisly incident of all, at the centre of one of their murals which had been painted crudely with blood rather than magic, they'd hung a Muggle-born first-year's cat.

The cat was still alive when the scene was discovered – by Peeves of all beings – and Dumbledore had been able to heal him. The teachers never caught the students responsible, though they clearly had their suspicions, and Severus, Mulciber, and Avery were among those about whom the other students whispered most harshly. Lily didn't believe that Severus had attacked anyone or that he had maimed the cat, though she wouldn't count out the possibility entirely. There had been a time when she hadn't believed that he was capable of calling her a filthy Mudblood.

After the cat incident, students who had showed inclinations of being interested in becoming Death Eaters were attacked as well. Severus took a hex in public before her eyes, but it wasn't a very strong one and he reversed it easily. He was swiftly retreating with his friends, and as he passed she had stared boldly into his face. He hadn't even the decency to meet her gaze, though even Mulciber and Avery looked at her, and they stared with as much hatred and disdain as she had come to expect from them over the years.

What she hated most about Severus was that he had chosen his path, quite clearly at that point, but he couldn't even muster up the same kind of courage that his slimy friends could. He was still pretending that he could be two different people – the boy whose ambition in life was to become a Death Eater, and the boy who could be best friends with a Muggle-born girl.

After Hogwarts she never saw him again. She assumed that he had gone on to realize his ambitions and had joined the Death Eaters, but she had hoped, rather pessimistically, that he hadn't.

If she could have been sure that he was no longer on that path, she would have welcomed him back into her life gladly. Unfortunately, now her life included James, and Severus could not ignore what had passed between them at Hogwarts. Lily was certain, though he had never let on as much, that he could also not ignore that she had abandoned him.

She wished that it hadn't happened this way. She had missed Severus. The pain of their parting of ways had numbed over the years, but now that she knew he wasn't a Death Eater, that pain was more difficult than ever to ignore. They had been best friends. She had thought – she had been so sure – that he had cared about her. Sometimes she had even dared to suspect… but it didn't matter now.

Lily's unfocused eyes found Harry's again. He was standing a little shakily in front of her with his hands on her knees for support. He had been cruising along the couch. After a few steps he would perform a mildly celebratory bounce and look over at her, grinning a toothless grin, which she would return without thinking, radiant as always, but her mind had been elsewhere.

"Mummmmmuzzhh?" Harry said with all of the sincerity in the world.

"Yes, dear?" she asked, biting back the giggle that would only confuse him.

"Moose? Moose time?" His eyes were ridiculously wide.

Lily sighed internally. "Okay, Harry. Let's go get Magic Music Moose." She swept him up and flounced up the stairs past James, who was lying on the hallway floor with Vivien sprawled across his neck like a fuzzy scarf, to retrieve Harry's favourite book.

* * *

><p><em>I don't know why James is on the floor – you tell me.<em>


	12. Dumbledore's Gift

James Potter was reminiscing.

Severus Snape had been a skulking, sniveling, spiteful little kid at school. He never missed a chance to hex James or his friends (though given the circumstances James couldn't really blame him). He had tried desperately to get the four of them expelled. He was arrogant. He sneered. He had no sense of humour. He hung around with a bunch of wannabe Death Eaters. He brought out the absolute _worst _in Sirius.

James launched himself off of his couch and sought out Vivien. He found her stretched out on a windowsill. She hissed good-naturedly at him as he scooped her up. "Yes, I love you too," he cooed at her. She took a lazy swat at his nose, so he gave up and set her back down with an enormous sigh.

He tottered back over to the couch and let himself fall on top of it. It was just another one of those days. Lily was reading upstairs, Harry was smashing something with one chubby fist, Vivien was having an angry cat bath and shooting him frequent and irritated glances, and he had draped himself over the couch, his face smushed uncomfortably into an armrest.

"Harry, what are you hitting?" James mumbled against the couch.

"See, dah?" James peered over at Harry, who was holding up a very flat dungbomb, wide eyes shining.

"That's fantastic," James muttered. Harry took this as a cue to throw the dungbomb against the wall opposite. "Good arm," sighed James. "You'll make an excellent chaser one day." He turned his head the other way and closed his eyes.

It had only been a few days since Snape had blown up at him, but James was already missing him intensely, which was ridiculous. It didn't matter what angle you approached that fact from, it was simply ridiculous.

First, the two men hated each other. Or, at least, they had hated each other until a month and a half or so ago, which is when James had stopped hating Snape and had started to sort of like him. In a very miniscule way. But he had never forgotten about all of the bile built up between them in the past. And clearly Snape hadn't either.

Second, that miniscule liking business was completely inappropriate. Snape was a Death Eater. Though his allegiances had changed, he was still pretending to be a Death Eater, and not very long ago he had been a fully committed one. He may have even been responsible for some of the murders throughout the last couple of years. James twitched angrily at his own naivety. Of course he had been responsible for murder, he was a Death Eater.

Third, Snape was not a pleasant person to be around. He was quiet and brooding; he had only been moderately polite at the best of times. He resented them, that was clear. Lily, James thought, dreaded the time they spent with Snape. At the very least Snape's visits made her nervous. James had never dreaded their encounters, even at the beginning, and that was because he was foolish and nostalgic and having it out with Snape was a substitute for seeing Sirius, Remus, or Peter again. A poor substitute, but one all the same.

Fourth, Snape had usually seen them once a week. It hadn't been a full week yet. They couldn't expect him for at least another two days.

All of this added up to suggest that James was a complete and utter fool. He should just get up and get on with it.

_Get on with what?_

"James, why does the house smell like dungbombs?" Lily called from upstairs.

He'd start with that.

He scrubbed the entire sitting room from top to bottom Madame Magnificent's Multipurpose Cleaning Potion. The carpet, the walls, the ceiling (he used his broom, which had been gathering cobwebs, and Harry couldn't stop laughing at the sight of him hovering in their sitting room, scrubbing at the ceiling). The whole room shimmered with bright purple suds when he was done. He opened a window and lingered there for a while, watching a tiny old lady toddle along down the street with her enormous black dog that caused him a pang to look at.

Then he scooped Harry up and scrubbed the little boy's hands and forearms.

He sat on the newly scrubbed floor and plopped Harry right in front of him. They peered into each other's eyes.

"Harry," sighed James.

"Dah?" asked Harry, drooling.

"What am I going to do?" James asked.

Harry stared at him for a moment, his fingers in his mouth. Then he scooted forwards, reached up, and poked James in the nose.

"Gooo, dah," he gurgled. James smiled at him.

* * *

><p>At the end of the week, James posted the grocery list on the front door and got back to trying to train Vivien to use the toilet.<p>

Some hours later, there was a curt knock at the door. James answered it, but, just as promised, all he saw was an empty porch, his list gone. Snape had left a basket from Hagrid and three packages.

James frowned at the latter. They were wrapped like Christmas gifts.

He brought them inside, handed one to Lily, one to Harry, and tossed his own on the chair Snape had once occupied. Lily had a book, a note inside scribed by Dumbledore. Harry had a new mobile that emitted brightly coloured puffs of smoke, played a simple lullaby, and featured intricately twirling wooden fairies. Lily quipped, "Ah, now you'll never go to sleep," but as Harry watched it his eyelids began to droop. Lily raised her eyebrows at James and started putting away the food.

It wasn't until after dinner that James finally opened his own package from Dumbledore. He did so half-heartedly, paying more attention to the purring cat on his lap, but when he saw what was inside he leapt up, sending Vivien flying – and spitting.

"Lily!" he shouted, and then remembering that she was putting Harry to sleep he clapped a hand over his mouth and sat tight, still staring in disbelief at what Dumbledore had sent him.

She finally came downstairs, eyes blazing, ready to give him hell for disturbing Harry's bedtime ritual, but he didn't give her a chance.

"Look at this!" he whispered so excitedly that he might have been shouting.

She looked. And then her eyes found his again. "James!" she gasped.

"D'you think this means that I – I mean we – well, d'you think we can go out?"

They both stared at the invisibility cloak.

"I dunno, he could just be returning it to you," Lily whispered, staring at it apprehensively, as though it was the threat they were hiding from.

"But what good is having this cloak here if we're just stuck inside all day?" James asked, growing more excited by the second. "Maybe he wants us back in the Order! We can start doing things again, we can see our friends! God, I'll even go visit your sister if it means we can get out of the house!"

"I'm not taking Harry outside. And neither are you," Lily said firmly. "But it might be safe for us to go one at a time…"

James frowned. "Yes, you're right, of course, Harry has to stay… I wish he didn't, I want him to see Sirius again, he's going to forget all about him." He sat down, still holding the cloak as if it were the most precious and delicate object in the world. Lily sat next to him, deep in thought.

James slowly brightened. "But you and I can still go out. We could go right now, if we wanted to."

Lily smiled at him. "Why don't you?"

He stared.

"Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"It's just – don't you want to argue, try to talk me out of it, list all of the reasons that this is idiotic –"

"James, I've been cooped up in here too. I'd like to get out just as much as you do. But I think you should go first."

James, eyes shining, hugged the cloak close to his chest. "I'm going straight to Hogwarts to kiss Dumbledore."

Lily smirked. "Why don't you just write him a heartfelt letter?"

"All right," James agreed jollily, and he kissed her instead, fastening the cloak around himself even as he did so.

"Oh James, just go," she sighed, pushing him away. "Give everyone my love. And _don't_ tell anyone about Severus."

"I'm not stupid," James replied, still grinning like a fool. At that, he disappeared.


	13. Fragility

The Great Hall had never seen a night quite like this one. At first there was just McGonagall, standing directly in front of the Headmaster's throne-like chair, shouting for silence. Gradually the frenzy quieted, but McGonagall never got the silence she demanded – that was not granted to the staff, not until Dumbledore himself appeared some time later. McGonagall spoke calmly but gravely into the quiet, begging for everybody to sit down and to be patient. When she spoke no one else did, but still audible was the hoarse sobbing. McGonagall herself looked as if every moment she stood in front of the students without dissolving into tears was taking years off of her life.

She ended her speech. The students started talking again, but not as loudly, and not as chaotically. McGonagall turned back to the teachers standing with her behind the head table.

The only staff member not present was Madam Pomfrey, who had her hands full in the Hospital Wing. Everyone else, even Filch, Madam Pince, and Trelawney, had assembled in the Great Hall. Even Filch was looking rather solemn – not that he ever looked particularly happy, but for those few occasions when he was gleefully chasing Peeves around.

"Where is Albus?" whispered Sprout, peering at McGonagall. She was wide-eyed and she looked sickened, green – surprisingly for a Herbology teacher, the pigmentation didn't suit her.

"He is coming," McGonagall replied.

"Did he leave any instructions?" Flitwick squeaked. He too was as grave as Severus had ever seen him.

"We are to keep the peace," McGonagall said flatly. Then she shot a look of purest loathing at Severus.

He had vague thoughts about how unfair she was being, but for once he didn't goad her. Instead, he looked away, as if he really had done something wrong. But McGonagall didn't leave it at that.

"You in particular, Professor Snape," she began, "should be concerned. There are people in this hallway who have lost friends and family members to those with connections to your students -"

"Why should Slytherin house be singled out?" Severus muttered quietly, but still with considerable defiance. "We cannot yet be certain that the attackers were once Slytherin students. Whether they were or not does not matter at this point, of course, but all of the Death Eaters are not only from Slytherin, McGonagall. And Slytherin students died today along with those of the other houses."

There was a long silence after these words, so Severus finally looked at McGonagall. Her face was unreadable. "I know," she said, just as quietly as he had spoken, but without the defiance. "But after what's happened, some of the students may forget this. I simply want it understood that you have a great responsibility. Please rise to it."

They stared at each other for another moment, and then Severus nodded. There seemed to be a collective, relieved exhale from the staff surrounding them.

McGonagall need not have worried. For now, at least, the students were not contemplating revenge. There were seven hundred bodies in the Great Hall, which usually fit this and more rather comfortably, but even considering the size of the hall, the students seemed to take up very little space. They huddled together, seeking warmth as the magical sky reflected the cold January night, or perhaps they were hoping to find some solace from each other.

Charity Burbage was sitting against the far wall, behind the place where the Gryffindor table would have ordinarily been. Holly was sitting next to her - neither girl spoke. They had been in the Astronomy Tower looking out over the snowy grounds when McGonagall's magically magnified voice, filled with panic and horror, had demanded that all students assemble in the Great Hall. Charity had first thought that the school was under attack, but when she and Holly got to the Entrance Hall and saw the injured and hysterical students being escorted up to the Hospital Wing, she realized that the attack had already taken place. Voldemort and the Death Eaters had attacked the Hogwarts Express as it made its way back to the school as the Christmas break ended.

After an hour that lasted much longer than it should have, Dumbledore strode through the entrance way and up to the head table. A deathly hush fell. Even the students who were crying did so in complete silence.

Dumbledore was grave but otherwise unreadable, and he turned his back on the staff members to face the students. "The attack is, as you may have surmised, over," he said in a loud, carrying voice. "Two of the Death Eaters responsible escaped with Voldemort. The rest are dead."

Silence greeted these words.

"You will wish to hear news about your fellow students. If a student is not in the Great Hall, they are either in the Hospital Wing, at St Mungo's, or, they have been killed. I will list the students in these three categories, and I will begin with the students in the Hospital Wing."

Was anyone even breathing?

Dumbledore listed twenty or so names. Visibly, students would sag with relief if they recognized one of them. Others trembled more and more violently, while still others didn't move or seem to react at all.

He came to the second list, those with the more grievous injuries. This list was extensive. From what Charity had heard from students who had been on the train back to school, by the end of the attack half the train had been blown apart – there was no walking away from that.

A solid two hundred, with a couple extra to spare, were being tended to at St. Mungo's. One fifth of the population of Hogwarts.

As he reached the end of the second list, Charity realized that Dumbledore was reciting the names with no paper in front of him. He just knew them by heart.

The final and most dreaded list began. At this point, of course, the students and teachers present already knew who was on it by their omission from the Hall and the other lists, but hearing Dumbledore pronounce the names, each more hollowly than the last, was like being struck over and over again in the stomach. Finally, Dumbledore looked almost relieved to say the last name, and stare at them all in silence. Seventy-three students dead. Two hundred and thirty injured. The rest damaged beyond repair.

"Safe passage will be organized by tomorrow morning for those who wish, or for those whose parents or guardians wish them to leave Hogwarts. Those of you who are leaving will report to Madam Pomfrey before you go so that she can tidy up any minor injuries. Those who stay will report to her before returning to your house dormitories. Tonight, you will all stay in the Great Hall."

Charity and Holly didn't sleep. Most of the students didn't sleep. The staff watched over them tirelessly, silently. At several points during the night students had to be escorted to the Hospital Wing, succumbing to grief, panic, hysteria. Charity had gazed at Holly for a while when she had suddenly noticed that Holly wasn't really seeing anything. She was staring off into the cluster of students, blank-faced.

"Holly?" Charity said softly.

Holly didn't answer.

"Holly, I'm going to ask about Kitty, all right? I'm just going to go and ask and I'll come right back."

Holly blinked. Charity inhaled slowly and heaved herself to her feet. "I'll be right back," she said again. It didn't matter of course, Holly wasn't hearing her. But she said it anyway.

Charity approached the staff table. Dumbledore had invited the students to do so if they had questions. Few had gone up, though Charity was positive that everyone in the Great Hall had questions.

McGonagall wasn't there; she had gone to the Hospital Wing with Kitty's ex-boyfriend Perry. McGonagall was the teacher Charity would have spoken to; she trusted her the most. Next would have been Sprout, or maybe Flitwick. She approached Snape instead.

Why? _Good question_.

"Professor," she said, without needing to. He had been watching her the entire time she had moved toward him.

"Yes?" he asked, and the tone of his voice made him sound like he was sneering, even though he wasn't.

"I was wondering if there would be a way to…" _What? A way to what? A WAY TO WHAT?_ He watched her. His eyes were so cold and they made him look like he was sneering, but he wasn't. "It's Holly," she said finally. "She's not talking or moving or… _seeing_. I think she could use the Hospital Wing." _Oh God why did I say that why why WHY she can't go back there now WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY?_ "No. Never mind. Holly's fine. She's perfectly fine. I was just wondering if there would be a way to, a way to… I was just –"

"Miss Burbage, are you feeling all right?" Snape asked silkily, his eyes on a group of Slytherins having a conversation that was gradually growing louder.

"Yes, I'm –"

"Were you injured at all on the train?" His eyes still on his students, who were now quieting.

"Of course not, I wasn't – I was at Hogwarts for Christmas – you know that, you saw me in the Owlery."

"What?" he asked absent-mindedly, his eyes returning to her.

"I was in the Owlery!" she said, louder this time, so that some of the teachers and students glanced over at her.

There was a pause while he stared at her, inquisitive. Then, apparently satisfied, or perhaps giving up on his curiosity, he spoke. "Miss Burbage, I think perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing, or instead you should try to sleep; as the Headmaster said earlier, the sleeping bags are over by the –"

"I had a question!" she insisted.

"And what was it?" he asked, and now he really was sneering.

She blinked. "I've forgotten." She took two steps backwards. "Sorry, Professor." And she walked away.

She sat beside Holly again. Holly looked at her. "What did he say about Kitty?"

"Nothing," Charity answered, leaning her head back against the wall.

"I should've gone home for Christmas," Holly whispered.

Charity frowned, but said nothing. Secretly she chided herself for wishing that Holly would come out of her reverie. And then she secretly chided herself for being selfish and impotent.

"Everything will be all right," she said bracingly.

Holly didn't answer.

* * *

><p>Some weeks after the Hogwarts Express had been attacked by thirteen Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort after the Christmas break, the Dark Lord had finally finished punishing the two surviving Death Eaters, Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange, for having failed him so completely. He had meant to kill them all. <em>All.<em> Every last Hogwarts student aboard that train. But the mission had been botched and the Aurors had come swooping in, and then there was Dumbledore himself, and no hope left of success.

Voldemort was sitting in Lucius Malfoy's elegant drawing room with only Regulus Black for company, having banished all others from his sight.

"Regulus."

"Yes, my lord?"

"I am displeased."

Regulus held his silence.

"Do you know why I am displeased?"

"I think I do, my lord."

"Then tell me why."

"You haven't found the person you've been looking for."

"No. I have not."

Regulus held his silence again. Even the dim Death Eaters like Crabbe and Goyle were savvy when it came to the best and most widely-used approach for speaking with Lord Voldemort, and Regulus had a certain gift, which he had inherited from his quiet father and had fine-tuned during those few short years in which he had been his older brother's closest friend, for providing a comfortable, companionable silence.

"I have been misled, Regulus, by a trusted servant of mine."

"My lord?" A simple question. Vague. Not impertinent.

"He led me to believe that the prophecy spoke of Harry Potter. He led me to believe this because of his own jealously and spite for the child's father and his own lust for the child's filthy mudblood mother."

Silence.

"There is another, Regulus. Do you know of whom I speak?"

"No, my lord."

"He is of pure blood. Much worthier of my efforts. A child of Aurors."

_Ah_. Regulus nodded. "Yes, I know who he is. Will you search for him now?"

The Dark Lord laughed, high and mad. "I have already found him."

And this time aloud. Unintentional and stupid. "Ah." The Dark Lord didn't notice.

"But we must be patient, Regulus. I will take my time with the boy, of course – as so much of my time has been wasted already, why not be generous with a touch more? Now, I want you to leave me. I shall speak to Severus. Send him in after you. I wish to pay him back all that he is owed for the time and effort I wasted hunting the Potters."


	14. The Cloak

_Why doesn't he just kill me?_

"Stand up, Severus."

Severus stood. Eventually.

"Good," the Dark Lord said softly. "Now. Come closer."

He staggered. First he considered staying put. Being defiant. _Let him kill me._

But the Dark Lord wouldn't kill him. Instead, he would torture Severus until he finally did as he was told.

"Good," hissed the Dark Lord.

"My… Lord…" Now. How to finish that sentence?

"I want you to look into my eyes, Severus."

Without hesitation, Severus did so. Summoned memories of his mother. Memories of his father. Memories of Hogwarts. Dumbledore pushing a teacup at him.

"I am not interested in your little tea parties with the Headmaster, Severus."

Severus blinked.

"Maybe I can help," the Dark Lord hissed.

His mother, dying. "Severus…" she croaked, spittle foaming at her lips with the effort it was taking her to speak.

His father, dead. Going into the ground. His mother weeping, hoarse and tearless, beside him.

The face of Patrick Borrs, contorted in agony. A muggle he'd tortured, the first time he'd worn his mask. The Dark Lord picked Borrs for him because he beat his wife and shouted at his two little daughters. The Dark Lord had killed the whole family, much later that night, himself.

Himself, dead. His own face contorted in agony. Blood.

These weren't anything new. Severus had conjured these images whenever the Dark Lord had been within sight. These were, as far as the Dark Lord knew, the deepest and most disturbing images and secrets that Severus's mind had to offer.

"I want you to understand, Severus, that it is all in my power. I can strangle you with these images. I want you to know what will happen if you ever disobey me again."

"I'm… sorry… my… Lord…"

The Dark Lord stared at him in disgust.

Severus's mind flashed, unbidden, to Lily. Lily as she was in Hogwarts, at fifteen, before they had fallen out. She was running down the Charms corridor towards him, red-faced, hair flying. Late, as usual. But Lily Evans hated to be late for class. Something made her stop – her face paled, her hands clenched – something that hadn't really been there that day.

The Dark Lord stepped from the shadows like a thin, pale spider from out of a crevice. He seized her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back and moving to stand directly behind her, lifting his wand to her throat.

_There we are, Severus. I told you I would not harm her. I would leave her for you. Well, now you shall have her._

The Dark Lord was gone. Now it was him, Severus, his twenty two year old self, with the wand at Lily's throat.

_What shall I have you do to her, Severus?_

Severus tried to wrench his eyes from the Dark Lord's, but he could not. He tried to blink, but he could not. All he could see was the apparition, the young Lily of his mind. Pale and terrified. Powerless. He couldn't look away.

_I know how much you longed to hurt her. She scorned you, Severus. Humiliated you. She, a vile mudblood. You wanted to hurt her, didn't you?_

_No._ Replied a steadfast voice. At first Severus thought that Dumbledore himself had entered into his mind – _the more the merrier, welcome, Headmaster_ – but then he realized that this new voice was not Dumbledore's at all. It was his own, in the very back and most private part of his mind, where Voldemort could not hear it, not even in this state. _I never wanted to hurt her. I have sometimes thought that I hated her. But I love her and I always will. I would protect her at all costs. _Fifteen year old Lily stood with her arm twisted behind her back, held fast by a Severus who was changing, who looked more and more grotesque, more and more inhuman, with redder and redder eyes…

_He had seen her with James Potter. Hogsmead. They sat together quietly, sipping Butterbeers. Potter started to say something, loud, jubilant, waving his arms about, probably talking about Quidditch. There was a small smile on her face, like the one she used to smile for Severus if he ever got too worked up about a new book on the dark arts, as if to say, "Quaint. Predictable." He would have sheepishly faded into silence or he would have lamented her inability to understand in exaggerated tones. She would have giggled either way. Slowly, Potter stopped waving his arms around and said something quietly to her. She answered him, smirking openly now, and reached forward to wipe some Butterbeer foam off of his nose. Potter flushed. Severus had never seen him look so human, not even on the night when he had so _bravely _and _wonderfully _stopped him from being disemboweled by the werewolf. That night he had looked like a ghost. There was no blood in his face. He had suddenly looked as small and thin as he really was. Like a rat who had realized the foolishness of pretending to be a lion. But there, sitting with Lily, he looked like a scolded puppy. Lily bit her lip and appraised him, looking like she was about to giggle, but then she leant forward and kissed him instead._

_Suddenly Potter looked like himself and more again. Severus had barely noticed. He felt like he'd been disemboweled by a werewolf. A dull, deep aching. A sharp, searing pain. And yet he still loved her more than ever._

Everything faded. Had he finally broke eye contact? Would the Dark Lord kill him now?

No. They were still staring at each other. But the Dark Lord sucked in a sharp gulp of air, and was looking at Severus with something like fear in his blood red eyes. Whatever it was, it faded in the wake of his fury.

"Do not trouble yourself, Severus. When we're done here you can relate everything I do to Dumbledore. I give you permission to disclose all. I am certain it will achieve a much closer rapport with the old fool. Especially if at first he cannot even recognize you."

* * *

><p>But Dumbledore could still recognize Severus when he visited him in his dungeon office much later that night. The Dark Lord was not a butcher, whatever else he might have been. Severus had a black eye and a nasty gash that he had refused to let Madame Pomfrey mend. He had earned those by falling into Lucius Malfoy's (blessedly) unlit fireplace. Those were the worst of his physical injuries. He had multiple cuts and bruises from the involuntary flailing. Apart from that, the Dark Lord had made him experience the torture and deaths of the Borrs family, his mother, and finally, over and over again, his own death. And that last had been oddly comforting, because he had known each time that the Dark Lord would consider Severus's own gruesome death to be by far the most horrifying image that he might behold. He would leave Lily alone, thinking she was insignificant.<p>

"You should not have left the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore said somewhat sadly as he looked down at Severus, seated at his desk.

"I'm fine," Severus grimaced. "Cuts and bruises heal on their own. There's nothing else wrong."

"He must have been furious," Dumbledore prompted.

Severus said nothing.

"Does he suspect you?"

"No. He thinks I deliberately led him to hunt the Potters because of my… jealousy."

Dumbledore allowed himself a half-smirk. "Ah, the short-sightedness of the power-crazed."

"When you put it like that it sounds like what happened was almost whimsical," Severus snapped.

"You insisted that you are fine," Dumbledore reminded him. He added seriously, "I suppose that Voldemort _is _wrong. You never suggested the Potters, did you?"

"No. As far as I know he came up with them on his own."

"Did he tell you what he plans to do now?"

Severus pulled a bottle of firewhisky out of his desk drawer and took a swig. "Only that he is moving on, and that he expects me to come up with something useful for him dealing with you or with Hogwarts."

"I shall see to it that you have access to all of my letters to and from the Ministry. That should be sufficiently important and completely useless all at once."

"Does this mean," Severus said after taking another swig, "that he's finished going after Lily? He thinks he was wrong?"

Dumbledore finally took the seat across from the potions master, which had never been offered, and considered his answer for some time before responding. "I believe Voldemort was rather set on Harry Potter. There are similarities between them, you know. Most importantly, I think, is that they are both halfbloods. There is another boy he may pursue, but this boy is a pureblood. I thought that the fact might cause him pause, but if he is convinced that Harry Potter is beyond his reach, he may feel trapped. I was sure that he would attack both families anyway, just to be safe. After killing the Potters he'd kill the others as well."

"So I still have to be their secret keeper?" Severus asked sullenly.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, peering at Severus with that same hint of sadness.

"What about the other boy?" Severus asked, examining his firewhisky bottle.

"His family is safe as well," Dumbledore answered. Severus nodded. Dumbledore peered at him closely. His visible injuries weren't extensive, but Dumbledore could see things that even Voldemort's skillful legilimency could not penetrate.

"Severus, I'm sorry. I now wish that I had never involved you in this."

Severus was very still for a moment, and his only reply was to take another long drink of firewhisky.

The two men sat in silence together for a long part of the night.

* * *

><p>The Leaky Cauldron was sufficiently crowded, and what was more, it was full of smoke. A warlock had been startled, and had then fumbled through some spell that filled the bar with thick purple smoke. It was twenty minutes after the incident and nothing Tom or his young assistant had tried could air the bar out.<p>

A stumpy wizard arrived, frowned at the smoke, and sat down awkwardly at a small table in the corner, one of the only empty ones. He kept his head down but his eyes darted frantically everywhere, searching for something in the smoky bar.

"Hey there, Wormy," came a mocking, simpering voice. One arm wrapped around Peter's throat in a choke hole and the other hand ruffled up the blond hair in a mildly affectionate and mostly aggressive fashion.

"Gerroff me," Peter complained, trying and failing to remove Sirius's chokehold grip.

Finally, Sirius let go of his own volition and sat down opposite his friend, grinning savagely. "So, you got a cryptic message too? I'm hoping to at least get a free drink out of this, whatever it is." He hailed Tom and shouted an order for two butterbeers. "Maybe this mysterious character will treat us."

Peter grumbled at him as he flattened his hair neurotically, in no mood to joke around, apparently.

Sirius ignored his friend's complaints and leaned back, arms behind his head, staring casually around, grew bored, sighed an exaggerated sigh, and said, "Whoever it is, they're late. I'm sure they'll treat me to the most expensive meal on the menu to make up for it. Hey, Tom –" But his shout died in his throat as across from him, James shrugged his invisibility cloak off. Peter shrieked in pure terror and fell off of his chair.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that, Padfoot," James said.

Sirius's expression of shock slowly turned into a wide grin. "Least you could do, Prongs. I haven't eaten in three days."

"That's because you're so full of it that you forget to feed yourself," Peter grumbled, accepting James's hand. James heaved him off the ground and even dusted him off for good measure. Peter kept glaring. "Was that necessary?" he asked, nodding at the cloak.

"I'm in hiding, Wormtail!" James said, trying and failing to look wounded. He was like an overlarge puppy greeting a long-awaited master as he looked at the two of them.

Peter continued to look gloomy, which affected James's expression of pure joy not a smidgeon, and Sirius leant back even further, balancing his chair on the two back legs. "In hiding from Lily? Because she's gonna _kill_ you when she finds out that you've snuck out."

James waved him off, laughing. "No, no, Sirius. She knows. You don't know what it's like, being cooped up like that. I think she's going out tomorrow herself."

Tom stumped over with two butterbeers. Sirius took them both and turned back to the table – only Peter looked back at him. Quick as a flash, James had flung the cloak over himself. "Nifty, Potter," Sirius grinned, and he passed one of the butterbeers to the now again-visible James and took a long drink of the other. Peter glared at him. Sirius appeared to not notice, but James grinned even wider and passed the drink to Peter.

"Yeah, all right, it's on me. Why not? I haven't had anything to spend money on in a while."

"I think you'll probably have to show yourself to Tom if you're going to pay him," Sirius said, unconcerned.

"You dolt. I'll give you the money, and you can pay him."

Sirius shrugged. "How's Harry?"

"He's good. He's driving us nuts with that magic music moose thing, thanks a bunch, Peter."

"Not a problem," Peter mumbled, sipping his butterbeer.

"Yeah, and that's why _I_, being the greatest godfather in the world, got him a toy broomstick."

"Which is now locked in the closet. Because we don't want him dead. That's why we're in hiding, after all."

"Oh come on, you have to let the kid live a little!" Sirius snorted. "What did he do, dive-bomb Viv again?"

"No, he flew into the window."

Sirius exploded with laughter, spitting butterbeer all over the table. Even Peter grinned a little bit.

"Like a confused bird, Sirius."

"And I thought he was a cert for the next Gryffindor Quidditch hero," Sirius chuckled. "Oh, I miss that little tyke. Bring him round next time, James."

"I can't," James said reproachfully. "But maybe next time you guys can bring Moony."

Sirius's expression darkened. "No."

James frowned for the first time that night. "So you still think –"

"Yes."

Peter took an overlarge gulp and choked on his drink. James clapped him on the back, frowning deeper. He leaned in and muttered, "Sirius, come on. Why would Moony, of all people –"

"Because of all of the people that it could be, he's the most likely. He's in the inner circles, he's talented, and he's – well. I don't like it any more than you, James."

It was James's turn to glare.

"I thought that we weren't the kind to judge people based on… that sort of thing."

"I'm not saying that I think it's him because he's a werewolf!" Sirius snarled quietly, leaning in himself now.

"Think about it, though, guys. He's the only one of us without a steady source of income. He's been in the alleys. He's associated with other werewolves, sometimes on Dumbledore's orders! And we know that a lot of the werewolves are on _his_ side!" Peter whispered nervously, eyes darting around frantically again.

"Moony would _never_ be a death eater. Just like the rest of us. _Never_," James said dangerously. Peter leant back again, staring fearfully from James to Sirius, who were still glaring at each other. Finally, Sirius looked away.

"Sometimes, I can't be sure about whether you're the best person I know, or whether you're just some idealistic naive twit," he sighed, looking at James sadly.

"Sirius, if you can grow up a Black and turn into a Gryffindor, then a werewolf, any werewolf, let alone one that we grew up with, can be a decent person." James snapped. "I thought that you would know that."

"I DO know that," Sirius replied. "But there's no other explanation." He sighed. "Put your cloak back on."

A group of rather drunk young witches were tripping over themselves as they went passed the Marauders' table to the door. A good number of them spouted only somewhat comprehensible comments in Sirius's direction, but he ignored them moodily. When James reappeared, there seemed to have been an unspoken agreement to leave the argument where it lay. They spent the rest of the night laughing uproariously, and Peter even came up with the brilliant idea to produce new purple smoke as the bar slowly aired out.

James didn't get home until the sun had completely risen the next morning.

* * *

><p><em>Number one. Number three. The other side, then. Number two and – ah. Number four, Privet Drive.<em>

Lily stood a little bit back from the house and gazed up at it. So this was where her sister had ended up. With that ghastly man. In this ghastly house.

_But Merlin, she does know how to keep a garden._

It was the middle of winter, but apart from the dead-looking dormancy of the perennials (only somewhat visible under a thin layer of perfectly white snow) it was neat as a pin. And it was a _garden_. Petunia had inherited a knack for spotlessness and neatness from the girls' father. Lily secretly envied the neatness, but she had instead inherited their mother's tendency to lazily let a shrub grow unpruned and a lawn unmanicured.

She sighed. She had very little inclination to do it, but she did it anyway – up the stairs and a smart knock at the door. She stood back a bit and waited, breath held.

The door opened. Petunia looked straight through Lily and out into the street. Her perpetual frown tightened, and she craned her long neck left and right as if to spy a group of delinquents playing Knock-Knock Ginger, and then shut her door, turned back towards her spotless kitchen, and screamed as if she was being murdered.

Lily had ducked under Petunia's arm and had whipped the invisibility cloak off. She stared at her sister, looking rather offended at the unpleasant greeting she had received.

"WHAT," shrieked Petunia, when she had gained some of her sanity back, "ARE _YOU_ DOING HERE?"

From the kitchen came a high-pitched squalling.

"I just –" Lily began, before Petunia stormed past her to heave her chubby son up out of his high-chair and into her arms.

"There, there," Petunia spluttered at him in a most unsoothing fashion, her eyes still popping, as if she was not seeing her younger sister before her but instead an advancing grim reaper.

"Petunia, I'm sorry about – I just wanted to see you, to make sure that you're okay."

Petunia sniffed, and somehow that simple action conveyed the utmost distrust.

Lily ventured on. "Did someone come to speak with you about your safety, and protection, and – and all of that?"

"Yes they did," snapped Petunia, sucking in a large gulp of air that could only mean one thing: a quick, short-breathed Petunia rant. "And I'll thank you very much for _that _charming dalliance. It took me _weeks_ to get the ash out of the carpet. You have always been so irresponsible, and now your selfishness has put my family in danger as well."

Lily sighed, but chose to ignore the comment. "Just as long as you're safe, everything's all right."

"What is that supposed to mean? Safe? I hardly think so." Petunia covered little Dudley's ears and leaned towards Lily to hiss, "They told us that you're on the run. That you made some hocus-pocus thug angry, and he's trying to find you to take revenge. Congratulations, Lily, on leading such a respectable life. Mum and dad would be _so_ proud if they could see you now."

Lily frowned at her sister, unimpressed. She could almost see Petunia's thoughts whirring around in her head, trying to settle on something crueler to say, something that would really hurt. Seeming to not find anything satisfactorily wounding, she instead whispered, "Do you know they came back, not long ago, right after the New Year, to tell us that we have to stay inside? Well, of course Vernon won't. He's far too industrious to be cooped up, not like _your _husband."

Lily sighed and got right to the point. "The thing is, Petunia, Voldemort's getting angrier. He attacked school children at the New Year – it was very dangerous for him to do it, but he did anyway. We suspect that he's gotten angrier because he can't find us. If he gets you –" Lily trailed off. Dudley was drooling all over his mother's spotless apron, but Petunia, rather uncharacteristically, didn't seem to care. "Petunia, why don't you just – why don't you just come and stay with us? We're safe, we're under very strong magical protection, and – for Dudley's sake if not for yours or for mine."

"As if _you_ care about my Dudders!" Petunia spat. "And as if Vernon and I want to be anywhere near _your lot_ – we don't want to catch whatever it is you've all got!"

"But it's the only way that you'll be _safe_!" Lily insisted.

"If you really wanted us to be safe," Petunia hissed, a malicious gleam in her eyes, "you'd go turn yourself into that thug and get what's coming to you. You and your good-for-nothing husband and your little brat."

Lily stared at her sister for a moment, and then flung the invisibility cloak over her, and left without a word.

* * *

><p>"Feeling better, are we?" Dumbledore asked, peering at Severus with a twinkle in his eye.<p>

"I don't know who 'we' is, but I for one most certainly am not," Severus muttered. "Why did you summon me?"

Dumbledore winced.

Severus at once became alert. He had never seen Dumbledore wince before.

"Severus," Dumbledore began, not meeting his eyes.

_He is either about to tell me that I'm to be chopped up into tiny pieces, or he's going to shout "SURPRISE! A belated birthday party for you, Severus, I couldn't resist!"_

"Yes?" Severus prompted, wincing internally himself, hoping it was the 'chopped up into tiny pieces' option.

"I have some… news."

Severus held his silence.

"I wasn't sure if you had heard or not, but – James Potter has been spotted."

Severus blinked. "I'm sorry – what did you say?"

"James was spotted – not by Voldemort's people, thankfully, just by a small number of Order supporters, we think – with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew."

"I – I don't think I understand," Severus said, gripping the doorframe with one hand. "This is – your people? Your people with the polyjuice potion, pretending to be the Potters?"

"No, Severus, it was indeed the real James Potter. He and his friends were at The Leaky Cauldron, and James was apparently under his invisibility cloak when Tom tripped over it and it momentarily slipped –"

"His – his invisibility cloak?"

Dumbledore nodded wordlessly.

Severus's eyes narrowed.

"And, where, exactly, if I may be so bold as to ask, did his invisibility cloak come from?"

"I, Severus, returned it to him –"

"You did WHAT?"

"Well, it does in fact belong to him –"

"You RETURNED – you GAVE him – HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND?"

"I don't think so," Dumbledore replied ponderously. "But then people who do are seldom aware of having lost it, are they not?"

Severus mouthed soundlessly at the Headmaster for several moments, and when he finally found his voice it had, in those moments, reached the Mandrake shriek level of depravity.

"YOU MUST GET OFF ON IT! IS THAT IT? HAVE I GOT IT RIGHT? DO YOU _ENJOY_ TORMENTING ME, DUMBLEDORE?"

"Of course not!" Dumbledore answered, and he looked genuinely wounded. However, the unfortunately-timed twinkle in his eye made his answer seem rather insincere.

"WHY WAS I NOT AT LEAST INFORMED OF THIS?"

"I was certain that James would tell you. Or that he might even open it in front of you. You were there for Christmas, were you not?"

"I didn't – you – that package you made me deliver was – YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT _I_ HANDED IT TO HIM? AND YOU COULDN'T HAVE EVEN _WARNED _ME ABOUT THE DEPTH OF THE IDIOCY THAT I WAS PARTAKING IN?"

In the middle of Severus's hysterics, McGonagall flung the door open and stared from Dumbledore to Severus in alarm. Dumbledore nodded at her. "Ah, Minerva, thank you for coming so late in the evening. If you'll be so kind to wait for just a few more minutes – I think Severus has something further that he would like to say."

"Er –" McGonagall said, gaping at Severus.

"OF COURSE I HAVE MORE TO SAY, BUT I DAMN WELL CAN'T, CAN I? I HAVE TO GO AND FIX ALL OF THE PROBLEMS THAT _YOU _SO THOUGHTFULLY CREATED!"

"Ah. Then perhaps we can speak when you get back?"

"WHEN I GET BACK I'M MARCHING STRAIGHT UP TO YOUR OFFICE, AND THEN I'M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!"

"Professor Snape!" McGonagall snapped. "Do get a grip on yourself!"

"OH, SHUT UP!" Severus roared, and he stormed from the office.

"My apologies, Minerva," Dumbledore said in a business-like fashion. "Do sit down."

"Albus, I shall only say this once –"

"I have never been one for divination, Minerva, but I think I can surmise what you are about to say. I should also mention that you have said as much before, and often, with grace and fervor characteristic only of you."

"I shall only say this once _more_," McGonagall continued irritably, flushing. "But you should probably think hard on your… _reasoning_, as it were. You should determine whether whatever it is that you see as the _benefit,_ which just _might_ come of hiring that man, will actually be worth it in the end."

"I think, Minerva, that this time, it shall be Severus who questions – quite understandably, I'm afraid – whether it wasn't foolish of him to trust _me_."

* * *

><p>Sorry for the wait between updates. Stuff got in the way. Like "Holy Musical Bman!" for the last couple of days. Oh Starkid, the things you do to me.<p> 


	15. Fifty James Potters

"Okay, okay, I'm coming – OKAY! I'm literally seconds away from opening the door, just hang on!" James shouted from inside as Severus attempted to beat the door down with his fists.

A second later James pulled the door open, scowling, but Severus completely ignored him. He strode right into the house, shoving James aside unceremoniously as he did.

Lily was in the kitchen, cheeks chipmunk-full of her late-night snack – likely, from the look of it, Warlock Wilbur's Very Best Double-Decker Thick-and-Gooey Chocolate Chocolate Cake. "Is something wrong?" she spluttered around the considerable mouthful of cake, her eyes wide and round.

"Yes, something is bloody well wrong!" Severus snarled at her, looking remarkably like his thirteen-year-old self for a moment. "That idiot headmaster gave Potter back his invisibility cloak!"

Lily gave a monstrous swallow and cocked her head. James marched into the kitchen glaring at Severus. Lily said, "Yes, we know. What's the matter with that?"

"What's the matter with –" Severus shook his head at her, bewildered. "I shall _tell _you, since clearly you've quite lost your mind! It's sitting here in this house with you wanting to go out. The temptation will drive you mad, and eventually," he paused for effect, turning for the first time that evening to James, "you will succumb to your idiocy and leave the safety of this house."

"We've both already gone out," James said bluntly.

"I know you –" Severus started to say, and then he stopped. He turned back towards Lily, who was surveying him coolly while chewing another large mouthful of cake. "You've _both_ gone out?" He looked at the cake. "Where did you –"

"Sirius bought it for us," James said.

Severus stared at him.

"Okay, I mean, I offered to pay for it. We don't need the bugger's generosity, after all, but he insisted. He's sentimental like that. You should have seen what he tried to buy Harry. The man is insane."

"I'm going to kill you," Severus said quietly. "One of these days I swear, I will kill you with my bare hands."

"Well, just as long as you make it quick," James said with a shrug. He turned and left the room, heading upstairs to get Harry, who was awake, as the screaming had suggested.

"Did Dumbledore not mean for us to use the cloak to go out?" Lily asked, pushing a newly plated slice of cake towards Severus.

Severus peered at her silently for a moment. "I don't know," he finally said. "I didn't give him a chance to explain his stupidity." He pushed the cake back at her and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

She apparently caught his meaning, because she sighed and said, "I went to see my sister, Sev. I worry about her. I tried to convince her to come and stay with us."

"I'm sure that went well," Severus scoffed. "I'm sure it was not at all a waste of your life-risking efforts."

She ignored him. "And James went to see his friends. It's been a really long time – he's never gone more than two months, at the _most_, of seeing them. At least tonight he came home a little early, and he promised me that he kept the cloak on the _whole_ time this time."

He glared at her.

"I don't see what the problem is," Lily said sternly. "We're careful. And Voldemort isn't looking for us here anymore. He thinks we've gone abroad."

Severus just glared. James came back in the kitchen, carrying Harry who was nodding in and out of sleep, rubbing his puffy red eyes and yawning huge, mostly-toothless yawns.

"So, what's the scoop?" James asked, looking from Severus to Lily. "You're here to tell us to give back the cloak, right?"

"I was going to suggest it," Severus snapped, rubbing his temples.

"That's not going to happen. It's mine."

"It might be of great use to me while I try to keep you all alive," Severus suggested, his eyes glinting.

"Or, we could use it, and you wouldn't have to be at our beck and call at all," James retorted.

"You _can't_ use it to go out. If the Dark Lord learns that you are still here, everything Dumbledore has done to guarantee your safety will have been for nothing."

"We're not stupid, we know how to go out without getting caught!"

"You were seen!" Severus shouted. Harry gurgled a bit on James's shoulder.

"By Voldemort's people?" James asked skeptically.

"It doesn't matter _who _saw you, what matters is that someone did, and _everyone_ is dangerous during a time like this! _And don't say his name_!"

"Why not? Why shouldn't I say his name, when he's planning to hunt me down and kill my family?"

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, I must have forgotten! How hard must it be, to be hunted by the Dark Lord, to be pampered and protected in your own house, and how _brave _you are to use the Dark Lord's name as some kind of rebellion! Would you like to know how my last meeting with the Dark Lord went? I'll tell you about it sometime, whenever you want to hear what it'll be like for you when your mindless disregard for everyone around you leads him to your doorstep!" He turned on his heel and strode towards the door. "If you don't care about your own safety, I don't know why I should. Take care of yourselves, if that's what you want. Get yourself killed. All it means is one less ungrateful idiot in the world."

"Sev!" called Lily around yet another huge mouthful of cake. "Calm down! We can come to some kind of compromise – set some rules for using the cloak, limit our outings, that sort of thing."

"Don't offer to compromise with him. He just called your husband an idiot, when clearly I am the greatest mind of the wizarding world," James said reproachfully as he grinned up at a decidedly drooling Harry.

Severus wanted to scream. Instead, he slammed the door as hard as he could behind him.

* * *

><p>Killing Dumbledore would have to wait. Severus didn't think he was composed enough to give the headmaster another piece of his mind, but he fully intended to. He intended to walk right up to him and tender his resignation, at least from secret keeping – unfortunately the Dark Lord had seen to it that Severus would have to keep his position close to the headmaster, at least as long as he wanted to live. But as for secret keeping, no. Let <em>him<em> deal with them. He'd tell Dumbledore their location and be rid of the whole ordeal.

The problem with that plan, of course, was that with every infuriated step he took through the deserted nighttime corridors of the school, he could feel the Dark Lord closing in on Lily. _She had been out. Out. Where anyone might have seen her. Where anything might have happened._

He could sympathize with being holed up and feeling useless, impotent, and afraid. But wasn't it better to struggle with those feelings daily than to throw your life away for a moment's relief? Surely James Potter's folly and arrogance had rubbed off on her over their married life.

No, he couldn't just pass off the responsibility. He had to go back there and make her see reason. Let James Potter be killed out there playing with his insufferable friends. As long as Lily stayed inside, he'd be happy.

In fact, James Potter getting himself killed would be the best possible scenario. His infuriating casually indifferent face kept swimming before Severus's eyes in the darkness. Of course James Potter wouldn't care about the lengths that Severus had gone to in keeping him alive. He hoped that when the Dark Lord did find him he'd make him suffer before killing him. There was still a small part of him that suspected that James Potter couldn't suffer, though. Perhaps he was untouchable, as he had often seemed at Hogwarts. And somehow the buffoon had ended up with Lily… the Dark Lord's curses would probably just bounce off of his grotesquely swollen head…

Finally, he'd had enough aimless wandering. He swept off to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, spat "Ice Mice" with such vehemence that he could have sworn that the gargoyle flinched, and almost ran up the stairs. Dumbledore sat in his chair, his hands clasped together on his desk in front of him, looking for all the world as though he had been expecting him right that second.

Before Severus could say anything at all, the headmaster said, "To be perfectly honest with you, Severus, I never considered that returning the cloak to the Potters would be dangerous. Lily and James are more than competent, and I thought that the ability for them to go out once in a while would cut down on your responsibilities, as well as any negativity in their home - and perhaps even recklessness."

"They should _never_ go out," Severus insisted, flinging himself into the seat across the desk. "They might have gone out with the disillusionment charm before you returned the cloak, but they didn't! You returning the cloak convinced them that they have your permission to act foolishly!"

"I think that James considers the cloak much more reliable than a disillusionment charm," Dumbledore suggested patiently. Severus scoffed. "That is no ordinary cloak," he added with a twinkle.

"Ordinary or not, it still apparently slips off of him every so often, whereas a disillusionment charm would at least be consistent. Anyway, that isn't the point, Dumbledore. James Potter still demonstrates a flagrant disregard for the sacrifices of others who keep him fed and pampered –"

"And now a rather comical image springs to mind of you, Severus, doing anything that might resemble 'pampering' for James Potter. Comical, yes, but highly unrealistic."

"Dumbledore," Severus sighed, rubbing his temples for the millionth time that night, "can you at least pretend to take me seriously? I've been mocked all night and only, as far as I can tell, because I seem to be the only sane person in existence."

"I apologize," Dumbledore said gravely, leaning forward. "Please continue."

"Lily is in danger if she goes out, no matter how invisible she is. She's already constantly in danger, should I fail and the Dark Lord is able to find her."

"I suppose you are right, Severus. But I do not think you will fail. And I do not think that Lily is foolish enough to risk her safety. Apart from the unfortunate mishap at The Leaky Cauldron, both Potters seem to have successfully emerged from hiding for some much-needed freedom."

"What about the fact that one of the Potters' friends was supposed to be passing information to the Dark Lord?" Severus demanded.

"We've heard nothing yet," Dumbledore answered, nodding at Severus's left arm.

"That doesn't mean we won't hear anything, or even that there isn't already something to hear!" Severus insisted. "He doesn't trust me in this matter anymore, remember?"

"Perhaps you are right, Severus. Unfortunately, I don't think you will be able to wrestle that cloak from James Potter's clutches. If you want them to stay in the house, you'll have to convince them by speaking with them."

"I already _tried_ that," Severus muttered. "They weren't interested."

"Have you ever kept a pet? I think you'll find that this problem is similar to caring for a pet in many ways. You can't expect them to stay inside as long as Voldemort threatens them, and there is no telling when the danger may pass. But perhaps you can try again – perhaps if you don't yell at them, they might be more receptive to what you're saying. Though I myself am open to all conversation styles, sometimes a quiet, reasonable conversation is more effective than one in which one party assumes all of the authority and the moral high ground and shouts a lot. I hope you didn't wake Harry up, at least."

Severus glared at him. "You know what? I'm done asking for your advice. You've been an enormous help, Dumbledore, I can't thank you enough. Now let me handle it on my own." He stood and left. Dumbledore watched him go silently.

* * *

><p>James declared throatily that he was going to have a bit of a lie-in, so Lily heaved herself out of bed and made her way to the nursery. She found Harry lying facedown, singing a very muffled version of the Magic Music Moose song into his mattress.<p>

"Harry, you goose, what are you doing?" she giggled, scooping him up. He gave her a mostly-toothless grin and a little dribble of drool for an answer.

She stumped down the stairs, still cloudy with sleep and yawning. At the foot of the stairs she stopped.

Harry beat his hands on the top of her head as if she were a drum. _Don't be stupid. He can't hear you. Just call._

"James?" she called, almost a whisper. _Come on. He can't hear you. Just call._ "James?" louder now.

"What?" came the exasperated groan.

"Come here," she called.

"Oh, come on, Lily, I need my beauty sleep –"

"James, come here," she repeated, firmer and louder.

A second later he was there. "What's going –" he started to ask, but stopped as she had done.

Into the silence, Harry screamed, "Cha cha choo choo mooooooose!"

"But," James started.

"I guess Severus was right," Lily interrupted.

"But –" James started again, louder.

"Clearly one of us was seen by the wrong people, James."

James closed his mouth. He was silent for a moment, and then he sighed. "Let's go downstairs and eat something, at least. No one's stopping us."

Antonin Dolohov was standing guard outside the Potter's house.

"I was so careful," James muttered, staring into his untouched porridge. "There was one moment when _maybe_ someone could have seen me, but – I was so sure that no one dangerous was around. I was so sure that no one was watching."

"Maybe Voldemort is having people follow Sirius and Peter," Lily suggested quietly. "Or maybe they saw me, when I went to see Petunia."

"Don't be stupid, Lily. If anyone got us in trouble it was me, as usual." James sighed and put his head down on his arms, accidentally pushing his porridge into Harry's reach. Harry noticed with a delighted squawk, and he stuck both of his chubby fists into the bowl, splashing happily.

"_Evanesco_," muttered Lily. Harry complained.

James' head popped up suddenly. "You don't think that maybe _Snape_ –"

"Don't be stupid, James," Lily snapped, mimicking his earlier dismissive tone. More seriously she added, "After that whole speech last night? Clearly this is what he was dreading. And Dumbledore trusts him, after all."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore's a nutter," James muttered gloomily. "He might have paid Dolohov off, just as a sort of secret favour to him, to prove to us that he was right."

"Come on," Lily giggled. "You sound like Sev used to, when he was so sure that you lot were concealing Remus's lycanthropy."

"Well, he was right about that, wasn't he?" James retorted. "Nah, it was me. I'm sure it was me. So what are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know," she said, watching Harry sway happily in his highchair. "If we attack Dolohov they'll know for sure that we're here. I guess we have to wait for Sev to come back."

"He said that he wouldn't," James reminded her. "But you know, we're not completely helpless this time."

"I'm not going to watch you go out there to fight a Death Eater and ruin everything," Lily snapped. "We should just wait. He'll come back once he's remembered something else that he meant to yell at us, I know he will."

"I'm not going to fight Dolohov," James said. "Just listen."

* * *

><p>Severus had just dismissed a group of woefully dim headed Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw third years when he came up with a new plan. He would go to the Potters' that night, and no matter how infuriating James Potter was, Severus would not leave until they saw reason. Well. He would not leave until Lily saw reason. James Potter, he was content to conclude, was a lost cause.<p>

He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for the first time in a very long time.

It was in this moment, of course, that James Potter ripped off his invisibility cloak and shouted, "Excuse me _Professor_, I just had a question about my potions homework!"

Severus almost toppled out of his desk chair. "Wha – _Potter_! How – WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Look, Snape, I don't like it any more than you do. But I had to contact you."

"You could have just used a patronus, like EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ORDER!" Severus shouted.

"Where's the fun in that, though?" James grinned, seating himself at a desk in the very front row.

"This isn't a game, Potter!" Severus snarled.

James frowned at a potion stain in the middle of his desk, and then glanced up at Severus. "Look, I know. I do. I thought that a patronus showing up might be a tad disruptive in the middle of one of your classes, so I came here myself and waited for you to be free. We need your help."

"What, did the Dark Lord show up at your doorstep?" snarled Severus.

"Not yet. But Dolohov did."

Severus said nothing for a moment, but smiled lazily. "Ah. So. You've come to beg me to –" his smile vanished. "Hang on a second. Dolohov is right outside your house because you got yourself caught in a pub, and you react by leaving your hiding place to tell me about it?"

James raised one eyebrow. "It would appear that way, wouldn't it?"

"How are you still alive, Potter?"

James grinned. "I'm crafty, Snape. Don't be underestimating me, now. Anyway, you said that you weren't coming back, so this was the option."

"Of course I would have come back!" Severus snapped. And because he was suddenly struck by the need to do so, he began to explain. "I promised Dumbledore that I would –"

But James cut him off, clearly not as concerned about the explanation as Severus was. "That's what Lily said. Then she said that she should come and fetch you, because you like her better than me, but I insisted. I miss this place, you know. Great school, Hogwarts."

Severus rolled his eyes. He turned away from James and muttered, "I much prefer that you risk your neck instead of her."

"Yeah, why is that, exactly?" James asked, glaring at Severus. "What's the difference between me and Lily?"

"For one thing, Lily's not a fucking lunatic!" Severus bellowed.

James blinked. "Yikes. Tell me how you really feel."

Unfortunately, Severus didn't get the chance to elaborate on those feelings, because they had been intruded upon. Charity Burbage had wandered into the classroom several moments ago and had been staring from one man to the other silently, eyes wide, for those past several moments.

They stared back. In that instant in which the back of his mind whirred for a solution to this dilemma, Severus somehow noticed how remarkably like a deer caught in the wand-light James Potter looked when he was startled.

After that instant, he came to his senses and snapped, "Can I help you, Miss Burbage?" as though she had interrupted an ordinary discussion between himself and another staff member.

"Uh –" she said. "I was just – I'm just a little early. For class."

Severus stared at her. "Class starts in an hour and a half."

It was Charity's turn to blink. "Does it? I'll go, then." She all but ran from the room.

James smirked. "I'm a little early for class, _Professor_. Who was that?"

"Oh, no one," Severus replied ferociously. "You know. Just one other person who has seen you! Not only that, she's seen you with me! I'll have to wipe her memory or something."

James snorted. "And I bet you will."

Severus continued, oblivious to James's quip. "Dumbledore will never let me do that, of course. Maybe I should reason with him. What matters now is Dolohov."

James nodded. "What should we do?"

"_We_ will do nothing. You will go home, and I will handle Dolohov," Severus snapped.

"I think I should help," James insisted.

"The last thing I need, Potter, is –"

"Snape, Dumbledore's gambit with the polyjuice is completely blown. You could use some help coming up with a new way out, and I want to be involved. It's my family, and it's my fault that they are in danger again. Can you imagine what _that_ feels like?"

_More easily than you can possibly know_. Severus did not feel sorry for James Potter. At all. But he was right. Any more interference in this matter on Severus's part and the Dark Lord would destroy him. He _could_ use some help.

"We might be able to salvage Dumbledore's polyjuice scheme," Severus said thoughtfully. "But I don't have much time before class, so _pay attention_ and do what I tell you to do."

* * *

><p>For authenticity's sake, he was letting James Potter get a lot closer to danger than he ethically should have, probably. And it would be a lie if he had said that he didn't, very minisculely and perhaps not so secretly, hope that Dolohov would somehow get Potter. But that wasn't the point.<p>

Severus was disillusion charmed, muffled, and carefully trailing Dolohov, who had spotted James Potter not far down the street. James Potter had his invisibility cloak, and was luring Dolohov a little ways from the house. Mostly, this was so that Lily couldn't see what was happening, because both men felt guilty for very similar reasons. James felt guilty for risking his life like this. Severus felt guilty for happily letting James risk his life as well, and neither were eager for Lily to see it.

James darted out from under his cloak again and shot a stunner towards Dolohov noncommittally. Dolohov hissed, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

_Missed. They both missed - thankfully Potter missed me, too. Still as reckless and arrogant as ever._

James was gone again. And seconds later he had reemerged, farther away. This time his spell hit Dolohov, but it was only _tarantellagra_. Dolohov spat and undid the hex, but not before it had caused him to dance into a gravestone with a painful-sounding thud. He pointed his wand where James had been a second earlier, but he had vanished already.

Dolohov looked focused and deadly as he always did when doing a job for the Dark Lord, but beneath the facade there was a small glint of confusion in his eyes. Severus almost felt sorry for him. The Death Eater was about to experience Severus's nightmare.

He had followed the disappearing and reappearing James Potter into the Godric's Hollow graveyard. _Now_.

Severus snuck up right behind Dolohov as his disillusionment charm undid itself. He flicked his wand, undoing _muffliato_, and said, "Hi."

Dolohov whipped around and saw two James Potters before him, one an inch from his nose and one grinning three feet away. The one right in front of his nose smirked, and before the Death Eater could raise his wand, he had been punched soundly in the face.

CRACK!

Severus apparated to the far end of the graveyard and ducked behind a stone. The real James had flung on his cloak again. Dolohov was holding his broken nose and swearing.

_One more time_.

He hurriedly charmed himself again, mentally cursing James Potter and his stupid invisibility cloak, and then stood.

_Damn!_ Dolohov had gone. He'd apparently disillusioned himself as well. Now he'd have to be lured out – and there was no reason for him to show himself at all.

Severus silently picked his way across the graveyard, but before he'd reached the middle he heard a sizzle like a muggle electric charge, and a yelp. James had clearly been watching Dolohov as he was disappearing. The Death Eater had reappeared with his hair sticking up on end, and he immediately dove onto the ground to retrieve his fallen wand.

_What spell was that?_ Severus wondered uneasily. As he ducked behind another gravestone to reappear, he heard James zap Dolohov again.

Severus took a quick look at Dolohov, who was incapacitated for the moment. It was now or never.

CRACK!

He apparated to within a few feet of Dolohov, and James did the same. They hit him with the jelly legs jinx and _rictusempra_. He slumped to the ground, laughing infuriated laughter. As Dolohov undid the hexes, James went to duck under his cloak again, but Severus was too fast for him.

"Give me that," he hissed, and he tore the cloak away from him.

"What are you –" James started, gaping at him, but Severus has disappeared underneath the cloak, and Dolohov was getting up.

CRACK! James disapparated, but Dolohov had grabbed him first. Severus heard a strangled yelp and almost panicked.

He raced through the graveyard, darting around gravestones, almost tripping on the cloak. _Where did he – _

He saw them. James had knocked Dolohov's wand away and was holding him valiantly, but both men had splinched themselves, and James was definitely worse off.

"_Colloshoo,_" Severus hissed to even the odds. James let Dolohov go but he couldn't move. He was stuck to the ground. James disapparated again.

There was a small pop nearby, and Severus looked up to see a stag with a bloodied torso standing in a small thicket behind the graveyard.

Severus released Dolohov and whispered, "_Imperio_."

The Death Eater's eyes went blank.

"You will see fifty James Potters in this graveyard," Severus whispered. Dolohov's eyes darted around as if he was counting them. "_Legilimens!_"

The stag had wandered closer. He fixed Dolohov with a questioning stare, and sniffed the air as if looking for Severus under the invisibility cloak.

Severus could see the fifty James Potters in Dolohov's mind. They looked sufficiently real. He released his hold and muttered, "Act as you normally would. Go immediately to the Dark Lord and tell him what you just saw here."

Dolohov disapparated.

Severus turned to the stag and hissed, "It's time for you to go home."

He followed the stag to the Potters' house. Lily flung open the door and James switched back into himself on the porch.

"What were you _doing_?" she shrieked.

Severus followed James inside and shut the door behind him. Then he pulled off the cloak.

"What were _you_ doing?" James asked, fixing Severus with an accusing glare. He was clutching his side where a long, twisting gash was oozing blood through his clothes, but was otherwise paying it no attention.

"I was ensuring that this plan would actually work," Severus answered. He fished through his robes and pulled out a little phial marked "essence of dittany". He handed it to James.

"You almost got me killed," James said seriously. "You could have at least told me you were going to – to –"

"I expected that you would think on your feet," Severus answered. "Has it been so long since your last Order missions that you can't remember how to do that?"

James rolled his eyes and uncorked the dittany. "I was a little shocked – I thought you were leaving me to duel him myself or something. And we never agreed, Snape. We NEVER agreed that we'd use the imperius curse!"

Lily had been staring at both of them silently. Her eyes travelled to Severus's face and stayed there.

It felt like he was answering Lily's stare rather than James's accusation. "_We _didn't use the curse. _I_ did. There was no other choice. Two James Potters and the Dark Lord dismisses it as polyjuice. Fifty, though, and he'll be really confused. He had given up on finding you just days ago, because he had become convinced that you were hidden too successfully by magic of Dumbledore's that he couldn't understand. Now, he may give up again."

"If the imperius curse was necessary, then why did we have to put ourselves in danger at all?" James asked bitterly, wincing as his skin closed itself up.

"Because the Dark Lord will invade Dolohov's mind," Severus answered, looking at Lily still. "I needed to be sure that at least part of the memory was real so that the Dark Lord would be fooled."

"I don't like it," James said firmly. "It's an unforgiveable curse."

"It might have saved you all," Severus insisted. "I have to go, I have a class to teach."

Neither of the Potters said anything, so he grabbed the doorknob and turned, but at that moment his left arm burned fiercely.

He gripped it.

"What is it?" asked Lily.

"Did you get hurt too? That'd make me feel better," James muttered.

"The Dark Lord has summoned me," Severus said. The Potters stared at him, their eyes like saucers. "I have to go."

He turned to do just that, but James yelped, "Wait!"

"What?" Severus asked, turning back irritably.

"It's just that, well, you might cause a stir if you walk up to Voldemort like that. You look an awful lot like me," James said, smirking.

Severus looked down at himself and groaned. _I'll have to be late. I'll tell him it was Dumbledore looking for an excuse. Maybe he won't kill me for that. _He inhaled bracingly and flung James Potter's invisibility cloak over himself, and was gone.

* * *

><p><em>I don't know about making Sev swear. I figured if he was going to swear, that would be the moment for it – but I still don't know. Tell me what YOU think about it, and then maybe I will know.<em>

_Sorry for the loooooong wait. I'll try to be as regular as I possibly can be with more updates._


	16. Disgust

Severus had been concerned that the Dark Lord would punish him for his lateness. As it turned out, the Dark Lord was not in the least bit interested in how late he was. In fact, he didn't notice Severus's arrival at all.

The scene he walked in on was in many ways typical. After all, the Dark Lord punished his Death Eaters when they failed him, and his interrogation methods were not exactly pleasant. That the Dark Lord was now torturing Dolohov in front of the circle gathered in Lucius Malfoy's drawing room was perfectly normal. There was, however, one gaping difference. The Death Eaters stood in their circles unmasked. Even the inner circle bore their faces to everyone.

Severus hastily imitated them, lest the Dark Lord take notice of his lateness after all by seeing one masked Death Eater among them. As he did so, the Dark Lord lifted his curse and turned his back on his victim.

"Do you dare tell me again what you saw?" the Dark Lord hissed.

"My… lord," gasped Dolohov, trying to heave himself off the floor. "My lord… I'm sorry. I cannot… explain… I do not… understand… any more than you…"

"I am not interested in what you do or do not understand!" shrieked the Dark Lord. He whipped around and glared at Dolohov.

Severus wondered whether the Dark Lord would be able to detect his imperius curse if he used legilimens on Dolohov.

"What did you see?"

"I saw many… it was James Potter, but there were many. They all were identical –"

"Fool!" shrieked the Dark Lord. "Did you even think to look for a conjurer? Or for some sort of logical explanation? For obvious blips, or flaws, or perhaps signs of the use of polyjuice potion?"

"I… I was overwhelmed, my lord. They attacked me."

Apart from the gasping, Dolohov sounded almost unconcerned. Was the blankness in Dolohov's eyes only apparent to Severus? Was it not as plain to the others as it was to him? And did no one notice how much Severus seemed to be sweating, how bloodless his face must have been?

His eyes darted from face to face. None of them so much as glanced back at him. But there was something wrong, something _very_ wrong…. Severus couldn't put words to it. What was so wrong about their faces?

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord spat.

_Scream. You need to scream more._

And Dolhov screamed.

Severus wondered if the imperius curse made the pain more tolerable.

"You are useless!" the Dark Lord spat at Dolohov as he curled in on himself, twitching and flailing in a futile attempt to shake the curse off. "USELESS!"

He lifted the curse with his scream and flung Dolohov across the room like a ragdoll. Dolohov slammed into the wall and then the Dark Lord was there, an inch from his nose, staring madly into his eyes.

It lasted for only seconds; the Dark Lord uttered a shriek of rage more inhuman than anything Severus had ever heard, and then he brought his wand down diagonally like a sword. For one insane instant, Severus believed that the Dark Lord had cut Dolohov with his wand, because suddenly there was blood. Spurts of it, too much to believe. There was blood on the Dark Lord's face as he turned to face his Death Eaters, and Dolohov slumped to the floor behind him with an all-too-audible thud.

_Did he see?_

The Dark Lord advanced.

_Does he know what I have done to him? Is it all over?_

"You."

There was a squeak.

The man had been thrown to the floor at the Dark Lord's feet, and he did not rise again. He was shaking so hard, Severus doubted he would have been able to even if he had tried.

"You told me they were in Godric's Hollow."

The trembling man did not answer, but he shook harder.

"You have _lied_ to me."

"N-n-n-o-o-o, my l-l-l-o-ord, N-n-" He was _sobbing_, the poor bugger. He was sobbing so hard that the fact of his sobbing was undetectable but for how much he was choking on his words.

"Someone," the Dark Lord said softly, "is playing with me."

And even though Severus was feeling pretty queasy – he was sure his complexion resembled the whitest piece of chalk he might find at Hogwarts – he _almost_ smirked.

It wasn't exactly difficult to anger the Dark Lord. This, however, was something special.

The Dark Lord swung his wand in that fatal swipe once more, and the sobbing man choked, gurgled, and finally lay still. The Dark Lord swished his wand again, and the body slammed against the opposite wall. Severus caught sight of the dead man's face, and suddenly he understood –

"Get out of my sight," the Dark Lord spat at the others assembled. Severus was only too happy to oblige, and so, it seemed, were the others.

One Death Eater didn't move, however. He stood stark still, staring at the Dark Lord, and his expression….

"OUT!" shrieked the Dark Lord, and vivid green light was flying, bouncing off walls, missing Death Eaters by inches. One curse hit Macnair, and he slumped to the floor, dead. Another hit Crabbe. Yet another hit Travers. Death Eaters had to dart about as they fled to avoid tripping over the bodies. And yet Severus saw, even in the midst of the chaos, that even as he was fleeing his own drawing room, Lucius Malfoy's expression never changed.

He wore the same expression he had worn while the batty old Muggle Studies teacher gave a speech about Muggle-Wizard cooperation before one Halloween feast; the same expression he had worn when he had caught a second-year Severus snorting pumpkin juice through his nose because Lily, across the hall at the Gryffindor table, was making ridiculous faces at him. Lucius Malfoy was disgusted.

* * *

><p>Severus felt even sicker after apparating into Diagon Alley. He considered going into the Apothecary but thought better of it – he might heave into the eel eyes and have to pay for the whole barrel-full.<p>

Instead, he turned down a filthy alleyway and charmed himself, watching his arms as they disappeared into the buildings behind him. He turned again and apparated onto the Potters' front porch.

James Potter wrenched the door open almost before Severus knocked. "What happened?" he demanded, yanking Severus inside.

"I –" Severus began.

"Don't be sick in the front hall," James told him sternly.

Lily had hurried over by this point, carrying Harry. "Are you all right? Did he – did Voldemort do something?" she asked.

"No, I just – bad apparition, that's all." He let himself collapse to the floor, trying to calm his spinning mind.

"Destination, Deliberation, and Determination," James recited at him in a sing-song voice which did nothing to ease the nausea.

"And that's not all. I watched your friend be murdered," Severus added nastily.

"What?" James asked, losing all traces of aggression and humour.

"Peter Pettigrew. I have to say, I was completely taken by surprise and yet not at all. He was always a little weasel, wasn't he? I was still fairly disappointed that it wasn't Black. I was so _sure_ that it was Black."

"What are you talking about, Snape?" James said dangerously.

Severus hesitated, only for a moment, before answering with all the bile he could muster.

"Pettigrew was the informant. He was a Death Eater, hiding all the time in the outer circles behind a mask, but today the Dark Lord unmasked us all. And when he was done with Dolohov, he finished Pettigrew, because even with his information, the Dark Lord still hasn't found you. Your idiot friend died blubbering into his blood in Lucius Malfoy's drawing room."

He leaned his head against the wall and took a deep, calming breath, and as he did so, suddenly, out of nowhere, Severus felt inexplicably and deeply ashamed of himself.

Lily was staring at him with enormous, horrified eyes. Even the child on her hip seemed to have understood his speech, for his eyes, heartbreakingly identical to his mother's, were as grave as a toddler's eyes could be. And yet it was James's face that did it. Severus had hoped to hurt him. And he had.

_Yet it was Pettigrew – it was Pettigrew's own fault and Pettigrew's actions and if he hadn't been so stupid and selfish, none of this would have happened. How can this also be my responsibility?_

Severus supposed that it wasn't. It wasn't his fault, but even so, he had never seen a person look so utterly defeated. He had thought, those few months ago when James Potter had started to cry, that he had seen the man at his lowest, but he had been spectacularly wrong.

The only time he'd seen anything like this was when James had saved him from Lupin in the Shrieking Shack. He had been chalk-white; his eyes were even popping a little bit. As much as Severus was sure that _most _of the fear was for all of the possible trouble he and Black would be in, he did have to admit that when he had seen James Potter's face, _that_ was the moment that he finally realized just how much danger they both were in.

It was horrible to look at him, even for Severus. It was the look that had been on the first-year's face when his cat was found mutilated and hung – alive, yes, but even so. True, he had never seen the kid's face, but he had sometimes imagined it. Not spitefully, or even with outright remorse – sometimes, he had just imagined it.

It was the look on his mother's face every time his father shouted at her about how worthless she was.

It was the look on his own face as Lily shrieked with laughter because – how could he even _think _that he was good enough for her?

He tried to relish in it, in that small moment when the four of them hung suspended in silence. Why not? Why not relish in the fact that this man, _this man_, who had caused Severus so much grief, was finally feeling some himself?

But he couldn't. Not with Lily standing beside him, clutching the child, as tears welled up in her eyes. And not after the spectacle he'd witnessed today. What cause for celebration was there? Without Pettigrew and Dolohov to blame, Severus would be next. He would not fail, but someone – blasted Charity Burbage, probably, he had forgotten about that until now – would be his undoing. And once Severus was gone, how long could the Potters last, when the Dark Lord was so obsessed with destroying them?

"I – I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, wincing at how insincere it sounded. "I'll go. I have to speak with Dumbledore. I will bring you your cloak when I'm here next. I think it's best that you have ways of defending yourselves should anything happen to me."

He stood and felt twice as sick, and he almost ran from their house before they could say anything – before they could accuse him of everything. He didn't bother to charm himself before disapparating. Why should he? His time was running out. The Dark Lord was more insane than ever. And he couldn't even gloat at James fucking Potter without dissolving into a pit of self-loathing.

* * *

><p>Assuming my calculations are correct, an apology or two is in order. First, because this update took so long, and second, because it's so short. I was distracted by Spoonygate. What was that. Also, real life stuff.<p>

Not to worry. I have big plans, and I have high hopes for longer (and more sound/entertaining/worthwhile) chapters and quicker updates. And this time you can believe me. I hope.

Because I left it sort of unclear (since otherwise it would be clunky) I should mention that Severus did not maim and hang a cat. At least not in MY story dammit.


	17. Charity and Futility

"Perhaps we should consider hiding you as well," Dumbledore said gravely. "You might give me the Potters' location, and I could be your secret keeper."

"No," Severus said. "I'll take my chances. And I don't need to be someone else's burden."

Dumbledore sighed but said nothing.

Severus stared at the desk he was sitting at rather than meeting the headmaster's gaze. "I also have to tell you about Charity Burbage. She saw Potter talking to me when he barged in on me yesterday. I need to modify her memory."

"I would much prefer that you left my student's memory alone, Severus."

"Dumbledore, if she slips one wrong word to one wrong person –"

"What makes you so sure that she even understood what she saw?"

"It doesn't matter whether she understood it – if she says anything, anyone might hear it and figure me out!"

"Perhaps you could impress upon her the importance of not saying anything."

Severus flung his arms up. "Oh, right, yeah, I'll do that, I'll tell her how important what she saw was and hope that she'll keep it to herself. She'll definitely take pity on me and not let the fact that she stumbled in on something inflate her Gryffindor head and then go bragging to the first person she sees about what happened."

"Severus, these students are perfectly aware of the dangers of the world in which they live right now. It was not long ago that they were directly attacked themselves." Everything about Dumbledore and his office had darkened suddenly.

"Still!" Severus was not prepared to lose the argument because the train had been attacked by Death Eaters – Charity Burbage hadn't even been on the train when it had happened anyway. "When I was her age, I was as good as initiated as a Death Eater thanks to Lucius Malfoy!"

"And now here you are, risking life and limb helping to fight against Lord Voldemort, just a few short years later."

"And in those short years before I came to my senses what did I accomplish? I'm begging you, Dumbledore. I'm _begging _you. This is a loose end, I have to take care of it. I'm already in enough danger as it is without having to worry about some stupid girl ruining everything with a bit of stupid gossip!"

He sighed and let his head drop into his hands. After a moment, he looked up. "Just a few minutes ago," Severus began quietly, "you were telling me to go into hiding, that you would protect me yourself. And now I'm asking for leave to keep myself safe, and you refuse. So which is it, Dumbledore? Do you want me to be safe, or do you want me to be killed, and perhaps to give up the Potters in the process?"

"I might ask you a similar question," Dumbledore answered. "A moment ago you wished to take your chances, and now you demand to use invasive spells on a student to correct your mistakes. Do you want to be reckless, or are you self-persevering, so long as someone else has to be harmed in the process? Of course I am concerned for your safety. Go into hiding with my protection and let Miss Burbage be."

"You are asking me to walk away from my life!" Severus spat.

"As the Potters did, to save their son."

"I don't have a son to think about. Just… just Lily. She is all I have."

"But you would risk your life and hers – for what? There must be something else, Severus, for which you would risk 'all' you have."

"I have _nothing_ else, Dumbledore, but I've lived with futility for so long now, and I can recognize it when I feel it. I know I can't protect her forever. But I have to persevere. There is nothing else that I can do." Dumbledore pierced him with his gaze. "Somewhere deep down, I always knew becoming a Death Eater would only push her farther from me. But I kept going. I held on to the idea that if I could be recognized by the Dark Lord, that would fix everything."

"And was that not a mistake?" Dumbledore demanded, rising halfway out of his chair.

Severus sighed. "Of course it was. I put Lily's life in danger. She is still in danger, and now so am I."

"And yet –" Dumbledore began.

"And yet I cannot go into hiding! I can't give up. This isn't me being destructive – I'm trying to remain useful! I'm trying to convince myself that I still have something to live for. I can admit that at some point I will not be able to continue, probably because the Dark Lord will discover my secret, and when that day comes and if I survive it, I'll go into hiding. But not yet."

Dumbledore was silent for a long time. "Severus – the girl is of age, and so are you, and I cannot force you to do something that you do not want to do. Miss Burbage is a Hogwarts student, yes. Would I rather that you not tamper with her mind? Certainly. Would I rather that you gracefully bow out and not give in to this futility that you are so sure that you are destined for? Of course. But I gave this job to you, and if you feel that it is necessary –"

"It is, Dumbledore, I must –"

Dumbledore held up one hand for silence. "Do only what you have to. I must ask you to exhaust your other options first. Speak with her first. And do not raise suspicion with the other teachers."

"You mean McGonagall."

Dumbledore frowned at him. "I mean all of them, and _Professor_ McGonagall especially. If they even begin to suspect that you are harming a student -"

"Harming?" Severus asked irritably.

"- I will have to come up with a very long list of new and vague explanations about why I put up with you."

"All right, I will treat this matter very delicately."

"I really rather wish you had treated the matter delicately from the beginning. Could you not have secured your classroom with some clever little charm? You need to learn how to control your anger when James Potter is around, Severus."

Severus glared.

* * *

><p>Because Flitwick had taken his lessons while he ran around conjuring James Potters and watching the Dark Lord murder Death Eaters, Severus had offered to cover two of Flitwick's classes. The first one was NEWT charms. Flitwick had given him a funny look when he had declared that he wanted to teach that particular class, but Severus had insisted. "It's just before lunch. Go to Hogsmeade, enjoy yourself. Leave them seatwork to do," he had declared before sweeping off faster than he normally did so that Flitwick couldn't object.<p>

He was going to tell her to stay a moment after class, but she had lingered anyway. Her books had all tumbled out of her bag and she was putting them away slowly, and then the last set of robes whipped around the corner, and it was just the two of them.

"Miss Burbage," he began loudly, and she started and stood up.

"Yes?"

"What you interrupted the other day –"

"I didn't mean to, sir. I was just confused. I'm sorry."

"I'm not interested in your apologies," he snapped.

And then he didn't know what to say. Asking her to keep it to herself wasn't going to work. He had known that in Dumbledore's office. Surely Dumbledore knew that as well. Telling her that she was part of something secret and important was absolutely not a solution to this mess. Still, saying, "You weren't supposed to see that, so, I'll just be modifying your memory now. Sorry," didn't seem to cut it either. To buy some time, Severus decided to determine just how much she had seen and just how much she had understood.

"That was… a friend of mine. Down and out. Looking to borrow money. So desperate he broke into Hogwarts to ask."

Charity smirked. "James Potter's trying to borrow money from you, sir?"

Severus blinked.

"That – that wasn't James Potter. That was my… friend."

"I'm pretty sure it was James Potter," she said, smirking even wider.

"How do you know Potter?" Severus spat furiously, thinking as he did so that he was quickly losing his grip on the situation.

"Well – he was a quidditch hero for Gryffindor. And Head Boy in my second year. You both mentioned Lily – I assume you meant Lily Evans. She was Head Girl, and then the two of them got married. All the girls _hated _Lily. Well, at least, all the girls who weren't too busy drooling over Sirius Black to hate anyone hated Lily."

"Shut up, you silly girl," Severus snapped.

"Sorry, sir," she said quickly, still bloody smirking.

_I should just do it now. Wipe that smirk right off her face._

Instead he said, "No one is supposed to know that I am in any way associated with the Potters."

"I won't tell anyone," she said casually, still stuffing textbook after textbook into her bag.

"No? Not even all of those girls who were so interested in bloody James Potter?" he asked.

"I haven't said a word. Though I did want to. But I reckoned it was an important, secretive little conversation. Or shouting match." She smirked again. "Otherwise you both wouldn't have looked like you'd just woken up in the Shrieking Shack when you saw me there."

Severus frowned at her. "How have you been, Miss Burbage, since the train was attacked? I know you yourself were not on the train that day, but I heard something about a good friend of Miss Hillock's – Kitty something or another – and I wondered whether she hadn't been your friend as well."

That wiped the smirk off of her face.

_I am the master of tact_, Severus thought irritably. In response to the very visible deflation of all of Charity Burbage's confidence and good cheer, he said, "Ah, I see. Understandable." Then he sighed. "I am… I _am_ sorry, Miss Burbage, about what I must do. It was my fault, and not yours. The moment he walked into my office I should have expelled him in the most painful way possible, but I did not. Still. If anyone finds out about it and word reaches the Dark Lord…"

Her eyes were now growing rounder. "I – I won't say anything, Professor. I would never."

"I cannot take the chance," he said, gathering resolve. She took a step back.

"What are you going to do?" she asked rather bluntly, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

"I have to modify your memory. But do not fear, I took the Charms NEWT myself and can therefore perform most any charm proficiently."

"Professor Snape," she said, taking another small step backwards. "I would rather that you…." She trailed off, looking more fearful than ever. "All right then. Do it. I won't ask you not to. You must have a reason, a – a good reason."

Severus drew his wand, frowning again.

"No," he said. It was Charity Burbage's turn to blink. For an explanation he offered: "Dumbledore would throw me out." Charity exhaled. "But you cannot say anything, to anyone. No matter how trustworthy you think they are. You must not say a word. If you do, I will know."

He would also likely be dead, but he didn't have to relay that to her. _Let her be intimidated._

"I – I won't, sir. I haven't. I won't. Thank you, sir." She grabbed her bag and ran, _ran_ from the classroom. She had left a textbook or two. Severus sighed.

_What's wrong with me? It wouldn't have hurt her. She'd have been fine, and Lily would be safe…_

But Lily wouldn't be safe. She wasn't safe now – they had the cloak back, he'd brought it to them and he hadn't said a word, not even to warn them against going out unless it was absolutely necessary. And the Dark Lord was still determined to find her. What did it matter that a stupid Hogwarts student had seen James Potter speaking to him?

He had felt this way when he found out that they had gotten married. There was shock, yes, but mostly he felt something dull but impossible to ignore. The inevitability of his own disappointment and suffering. Futility.

With any luck, leaving Charity's memory intact would just mean that the Dark Lord would discover Severus's treachery before he found Lily, and then Severus would not be alive to watch her die. Perhaps that was the best he could hope for anymore.


	18. Peter

Lily was still being too nice to him.

James generally had a very low opinion of his ability to gage his mood and understand his own feelings. On the other hand, his opinion of how well Lily could gage them for him was rather high. James had woken up early in the morning (it was his turn to get Harry), and he was feeling as though now, weeks after Peter had been murdered, he should be back to normal again. He had inhaled, listening to Harry bark, meow, and crow like a rooster as he waited for his father to get him ready, and he had thought, _Today is the day that everything goes back to how it was._

He had felt fine. He had dressed Harry upside-down, his socks on his hands, his legs poking through his t-shirt arms, his trousers tied around his neck like a very unfashionable scarf, and they had laughed. James had been a tad concerned then, because he was laughing as hard as Harry was and he didn't really think it was that clever - not that it needed to be, with a toddler, but maybe he was forcing it. When Lily came in to see what they were doing, her hair still tousled and her eyes sleepy, she had chuckled a bit too, and James had been _very_ concerned.

But the rest of the morning had gone well. Lily wanted to reread one of her novels, so James had Harry to himself for the day, and they busied themselves making a fort with all the pillows in the house. By lunch time (leftovers, eaten in the fort) he had been sure that today really was the day. He had moved on, he was past it.

He had to be sure, though. He decided to test his new-found normalcy on Lily. As she fixed her own slightly more sophisticated non-fort lunch, he tried out a passing remark – and he didn't really believe it, he just wanted to know for sure if he was better. He had said, "Maybe he was wrong, Snape. Maybe he didn't really see who was –" and that was all. He had gone on, of course, but that was all it took. She had given him a kind look and she had even gone so far as to say, "You never know, James. Maybe he didn't see properly."

So that was it then. It was still bad. It was even worse than he had allowed himself to believe it might be. She was still letting him cling to hope – he had a long way to go yet.

What he needed, he supposed, was to talk to Sirius, or Remus. Both of them would know exactly what James was going through because they would experience it themselves. Lily was sympathetic and was of course hurt and angry herself, but she wasn't a Marauder. These past weeks, much of his time was spent wondering whether Sirius had heard about Peter, and another large chunk was spent on Remus, who surely would not have heard. Now more than ever, James was determined to find Remus again, because maybe some of what had gone wrong could be salvaged if the three remaining Marauders could be reunited.

He could go whenever he wanted. Lily had even suggested it at one point. Snape had brought the cloak. He hadn't even given them some snooty speech about only using it if he got himself killed. The cloak was there, he could use it completely guilt-free – and he hadn't.

If Peter could betray them – if _Peter _could be a Death Eater – then what about Sirius or Remus? Both of them were smarter and more capable than Peter, and that suggested that they would be far less likely to become Death Eaters than him. But both of them had disadvantages that Peter did not have. Remus had to struggle for every day that he wanted to live. Sometimes in the darker moments, James wondered if he could really blame Remus if he had joined the Death Eaters. If Voldemort had offered him some measure of safety, some easing of the hardship, especially after his friends, the only people to accept him for what he was, had lost contact with him, what could James really say against him? Sirius had even begun to suspect that he had joined Voldemort anyway.

And as for Sirius…

Now, there was a time not very long ago that James would have laughed at the thought of Sirius being a Death Eater. Sirius Black despised everything that Death Eaters held up. He had run away from a life of luxury, he had turned his back on his prejudiced family, he had begun anew and he had made that decision at the age of eleven. His younger brother was even a Death Eater and all Sirius had done when he had heard that news was call Regulus an idiot and laugh his bark-like laugh. But sometimes, in the darkest moments, James wondered if Sirius's hatred of the dark arts and of the Death Eaters had more to do with his rebellious nature than it did about sincere feelings and ideals. If that were the case, couldn't he have been tempted - but it was ridiculous to even imagine.

Everything had changed, though. Snape was helping them now. Snape. Their old enemy was the only person keeping Lily and Harry alive. Even though he clearly resented every minute he spent helping them, he had risked everything and was still risking everything to help anyway. He was even spying for Dumbledore on the side. If Snape could be one of Dumbledore's most reliable people, wasn't it possible that Sirius could regress and align himself with the people and the ideas that he was born to be connected with?

James _hated _himself for thinking these things, because he knew – _he knew _that they weren't true. Sirius and Remus could _never_ be Death Eaters.

The problem was that a month ago he would have included Peter in that declaration.

But he also knew that Peter was different. They had befriended him for a lot of reasons, but one of them, and maybe the only one that had mattered at the time, was because he had worshipped them, Sirius and James. If they did or said anything that was even moderately funny, he would laugh. They might have seen through it, even as the stupid eleven-year-olds that they had been, but he always listened so carefully and so raptly to everything they ever said. He was sincere. He was a born hero-worshipper, and James and Sirius had legitimately been his heroes back then. James remembered him as a first-year - he had always seemed so little even though they were never that much taller than him. He was round and mousy-haired, but his eyes, round like the rest of him, were always so bright. It was really odd, he thought, but Peter had – for lack of a better word – rather beautiful eyes. Not like Lily's, but in their own way they had been. Having Peter around was like having a little brother, and every once in a while he would rise to their level. He had been the one to come up with the idea of being animagi to help Remus. He read a lot – that was something he and Lily had in common, they were always talking about books, and always lending each other different things, he from wizarding world and she from the muggle world – and one of his favourite comic books featured a hero who could turn himself into a manticore. He had said, "As humans, a werewolf will see us as enemies, but if we could be animals, he might see us as closer to him, as less of a threat, and we could maybe get him to trust us." Remus had thought it was a terrible idea, but James and Sirius had latched on to it, praising the idea as inspired, and he had looked so thrilled to have impressed them.

Of course, the first night they went out as animals he had pretty much needed to be dragged out. He kept talking about how sick he was feeling and how little use he would be as such a small animal, but Sirius had just ignored him except to call him a prat. Peter had never been as brave as they were, but James believed that he aspired to it. It had been Sirius and James together who had decided to join the Order. James, having always been a little bit irritated with the casually dismissive way in which Sirius would sometimes treat Peter, had made sure to be the one to invite Peter to join as well. He had been delicate, thinking that it was very unlikely that Peter would join and put himself in so much danger, but he had. James had pulled him aside and told him how happy he was that Peter had decided to join after all, and Peter had just gulped and nodded. Now he wondered whether Peter had already been a Death Eater at that point, and if his joining was just orders from Voldemort.

He felt betrayed, of course, but mostly he was furious at Voldemort. Nobody should have taken advantage of Peter like that, and _killed_ him like that, he must have been so scared and all he ever wanted was to not be scared anymore…

He knew it was stupid. Peter had helped Voldemort, would have helped him kill his family, all to save his own stinking skin. James hated him for it, but now he was dead, and he would never get a chance to redeem himself – and James had to believe that he would have tried, even if it was foolishness to believe something like that knowing what Peter had done.

After Harry went to bed that night, James sighed, pulled up a chair directly opposite Lily on the loveseat, and pulled the book out of her hands.

"Save the page, at least," she said quietly.

"I was - Merlin, Lily. How little you think of me."

"What is it, then?"

He told her. Everything. She listened silently, nodding when, he supposed, he said something she had already surmised for herself. When he was done, she leaned forward.

"So, now what?"

"Well, that's what I'm wondering. I need to do something, but I don't know what. I want revenge for Peter, I want revenge _on_ Peter, I want something. I can't leave, though. I can't go talk to Sirius if I sometimes think he might be a Death Eater – he'll kill me, Lily."

"So we wait."

"We wait."

From upstairs, a wavering high-pitched voice: "Harry Harry Harry Mummy Daddy Harry TICKY TACK!"

"Go to sleep, Harry."

"Mowww. Moooooo."

"Harry. Sleep. Now."

* * *

><p>Severus Snape was, once again, a terrible person.<p>

That was what any of Dumbledore's decent people thought of him at Hogwarts. That was what Dumbledore himself had first thought, when he had brought him information about the Dark Lord's interpretations of Trelawney's prediction. That was what the Potters had thought. That was what McGonagall and Sprout had thought. And they still thought it.

Well. Then there was Hagrid. But Severus was pretty sure that Hagrid didn't do much thinking.

He was staring at himself in a cracked and dirty mirror. Same old Severus Snape. He'd inherited all of the worst from his mother, and even worse from his father, like a Hungarian Horntail-Peruvian Vipertooth crossbreed inheriting the horned tail and the poisonous fangs. And this was a comparison as easily applied to his exterior as his interior.

He hadn't killed anyone, but he was a Death Eater. He had tried. He had tried hard. He had relished being a Death Eater, back when relishing in it was still possible. He had tortured people. He had watched them die. He had jeered at them, at their suffering. As a student he had done things. He had injured animals. He believed he'd gotten a house-elf once, but he couldn't be sure. He'd aimed, in any case. He hadn't had qualms about being cruel towards those who were weaker than him. His father certainly hadn't had any either, and nor had James Potter or Sirius Black. Trelawney's prediction and his reliance on Dumbledore had necessitated that he rethink his beliefs and his actions, and he had, and he still was rethinking them, and recently he had let a stupid girl go without modifying her memory, and it of course wouldn't have hurt her, but for some reason he couldn't even go through with that.

There was the one upside, though, in leaving her memory intact.

After the train had been attacked, Severus had dismissed all hints of something irritating brewing in Charity Burbage's stupid untouched mind. He had thought that it had to be the remnant shock. The Hogwarts Express, her friends injured and killed, and if she hadn't stayed over the holiday she might be among the dead. That was the explanation. She was confused. He was confusing. Of course she lingered if he was ever around. They were like opposing ends of a magnet, at least from her perspective. She might find some answers lingering about his sleeves or his book bag.

The only problem he found in this explanation was that after years of being consumed by the thing, he knew what longing looked like. And even James Potter had made some stupid comment at one point, if he was remembering correctly.

Maybe that was why he let her go. Deep down he had accepted that for whatever reason she had started to like him, and he was sympathetic. Now, after he had let her go, he had his answer. She had definitely been curious, but now her curiosity was quenched. She had seen enough.

Now, when his NEWT class ended, she was the first one out of the door. She sat at the back in the corner. She never raised her hand, even though he specifically said at the beginning of each class that if a student did not contribute to the discussion about whatever potion they were brewing that day, they would fail the lesson. If he passed her in the hallway, she didn't stare anymore. Sometimes she'd turn right around and dart down a different corridor.

Severus, still glaring at his reflection, decided to take the fact that Charity Burbage was no longer interested in him as a good sign. If his lapse in judgment had led to this one boon, surely there was nothing to worry about. Who did she talk to anyway? A friend of hers was dead, another was still traumatized, and all the rest were Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs – she didn't associate with any of his students as far as he knew. She _certainly _didn't associate with those of his students with connections to the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Even if she did go blabbing, why would one of those students care about anything having to do with some former Gryffindor Quidditch star?

His hopefulness was short-lived. A couple of weeks had passed since he let Charity go with her memories when he overheard something that chilled his bones.

He was in the restricted section in the library searching for _Moste Potente Potions_ when he heard one of his students, presumably on the other side of the shelves, hiss, "And I heard he's _obsessed _with this Potter bloke –"

Severus dropped the other books he was holding, and this brought Madame Pince over, screeching about improper book-handling.

"Shut up, you insufferable cow, just pick them up, they're only books!" he shouted as she smacked at him with a stack of grey leaflets.

He left her screeching and swept out of the restricted section with the most intimidating aura that he could muster feeling so icy cold. "Bulstrode, a word?"

The boy paled. "Yes, sir?"

"Not here," Severus said pointedly as Madame Pince came hurrying after, still wielding her leaflets.

When they were in a thoroughly secluded classroom, Severus said quietly, "Is there something you would like to share with me?"

Bulstrode was a lot bigger than Severus was, but he did not look it at the moment. "Sir?"

"No? Well then perhaps there is something that you would like to share with just anyone who might happen to walk past."

That did it. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to, I was just – well – I didn't mean to – please don't say anything sir, I won't talk about him again, I swear!"

"Be quiet," Severus snapped, relief sweeping through him. "Don't let me catch you at it again. I don't need to tell you what the consequences will be. Get out."

Bulstrode went, almost running. He had been, as Severus had been hoping, just talking about the Dark Lord. The girl hadn't said anything – but if she did, the name Potter was now associated with the Dark Lord, and if his self-important students heard anything about what Charity Burbage had seen at this point, he'd be in real trouble.

He didn't think he could modify her memory now – she'd run if she saw him coming, probably straight to McGonagall, who would kill him, or to Dumbledore, who would insist that he leave her alone if she asked him to.

He would have to think of something else. He had managed to keep the Potters as well as himself alive thus far despite near constant attempts at sabotage from James Potter. He would find a way to fix this. He had to.


	19. An Idea

It was early morning. He knocked on the door softly and waited, listening for evidence from within that they had heard him. A moment later, Lily opened the door with Harry on her hip.

"Sev," she said solemnly by way of greeting, and backed up to let him in.

"I can't stay, Lily. I'm just here to drop off –"

"Don't be stupid, Sev, you're coming in for a bit. We haven't talked properly in more than a month. In fact, the last proper chat we had ended rather badly, if I'm remembering it correctly." She snatched the food he was carrying in one hand and his cloak sleeve in the other. She dragged both down the hall and into the kitchen, and Sev thought miserably to himself, _The last proper chat we had did end rather badly… but it was years ago and nowhere near this wretched house_.

"We have questions." She dumped the supplies on the counter and gestured rather forcibly at a chair that had been pulled out.

He sighed and sat. "Fine, but I don't really have time for an interrogation, so if you could be quick about it –"

"James! Come down, Sev's here, and he hasn't got much time!"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Lily, no, can we just leave him out of it? You ask the questions!"

She looked at him suspiciously as James stumped into the room. "They're mostly his questions, Sev."

"What?" asked James, rubbing his eyes with both fists. When he looked up at them properly Harry trumpeted a greeting. "Hi, Harry. What is it I'm supposed to be doing?" James asked.

"Ask him those bloody questions, James!"

"What questions?"

Lily fixed her husband with a stern gaze. Harry fixed him with a wide-eyed, drooling one.

"Oh, those." James turned to frown at Severus. "Er – what's… Sybil Trelawney up to these days? Any new predictions we should be watching out for?"

It was Lily's turn to roll her eyes. "James wonders how sure you are about what you saw happen to Peter."

Severus, who had frozen at the mention of Trelawney, started and wrenched his eyes from James. "What? Oh. Yes. I mean, I saw it, he's dead. Very, very dead."

"And you're sure?" Lily pressed.

"Of course I'm sure. It was Peter Pettigrew. And I saw the Dark Lord kill him."

"All right," Lily said, folding her arms.

"Is that it?" Severus asked.

"Just about." It was James who replied. He looked rather deflated, visible even from his position leaning against the kitchen door frame.

"No, it isn't," Lily said firmly.

James groaned. "Let's get this over with, then. What are we supposed to do with the invisibility cloak, Snape?"

Severus sneered. "Oh, you're actually interested in my advice about that now, are you?"

"Ugh," James groaned again. "Have your say, then, you git."

"James," Lily said coldly.

"Use the cloak if I die. Keep it on hand in case I should fail you. Have a backup plan in place and have it practiced. Unless you are almost certain that I am dead or that the Dark Lord is closing in on you, do not use the cloak."

"I'd like to see my friends – Sirius and Remus. I'd like to tell them about Peter."

"Do not do that. You can't know for sure that they aren't secretly Death Eaters as well."

James's frown deepened.

"Anything else?" Severus prompted lazily.

"Yes, actually," James said, and leaned forward. "What have you done about that girl – you know, that one who saw us?"

For the second time within just a few minutes, Severus froze. "She – she's taken care of."

"Oh, really?" James said, raising one eyebrow and clearly not missing Severus's hesitation. "Did you modify her memory? Did you get to her before she said anything to anyone else?"

"No, Potter, I arrived far too late. Half the day was gone before I was able to return to Hogwarts, and even though I set out to find her immediately she, within the span of a few hours, had managed to tell the entire school full of students as well as all of the teachers and other staff members all about you and your showing up in the Hogwarts dungeon, and they of course were all so thrilled and excited to hear all about the mystical James Potter, the most important man in the universe. But don't worry, all of that caring about you that they did meant that they barely even heard the part about how you were talking to me. Their comprehension capabilities were blown to pieces at the mere mention of your name."

"I do so enjoy watching these little chats of yours," Lily said dully before James could respond. "Sev. James. Why don't you both fill me in? What the bloody hell are you two talking about?"

"Er –" James said.

Severus seized his chance while James collected his thoughts. "Your idiot of a husband came to pay me a visit –"

"Yes, I know that part," Lily said impatiently.

Severus paused. "Well – okay, so, he was in my classroom and this irritating student of mine came in and saw –"

"James!" Lily shrieked. "You never told me –"

"I meant to! I just forgot!"

"You told me you'd be _careful_!"

"I was!"

"You couldn't have charmed the classroom, or kept the cloak on, like you SAID YOU WOULD –"

Harry started bouncing in his mother's arms and humming his magic music moose song.

"I waited until the class was over, didn't I?"

"Hang on – you were _there _during my class?" Severus asked furiously.

"Hey – don't you start on me there, Snivelly. What exactly did you do about it? I want the story, the WHOLE story, and don't add in any stupid comments about people being obsessed with me," James snapped, rounding on Severus.

"I – I spoke with her."

"YOU WHAT?" Lily and James shouted together. Harry applauded.

"James, take Harry upstairs," Lily said, handing Harry over.

"No, YOU take him upstairs. I have to have a word with –"

"Well then why don't we just keep our voices down and –"

"Honestly, I don't know why you're concerned. He looks like he's enjoying all this," Severus said dully, eyeing Harry.

"Well – people deal with stress in all different ways."

"Most people don't deal with it by… doing whatever that is that he's doing. Even when they are small children."

The three regarded Harry for a moment, mouths slightly ajar.

Lily broke the silence. "I don't want to upset him, and I'm _not_ leaving you two alone like this, so James, please, put him upstairs."

James was reaching for Harry when Severus spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

Lily and James both froze. Harry wiggled frantically, but much to his disappointment, he was not set down so that he could crawl after the cat.

"It was a momentary weakness. I fully intended to modify her memory, but – I didn't."

"Oh ho!" James exclaimed. They stared at him. He reddened. "I mean. There you stand, Snape, telling us about being careful, not going out, not talking to our friends, saying, 'Keep yourselves isolated, you morons, I'm working so hard to protect you so that entitles me to treat you like children,' and yet you have now managed a major cock-up of your own."

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't used your infernal cloak in the first place!" Severus snapped. "And I have no idea why I'm apologizing – I am certainly not admitting any guilt here, because I'm the one who has to keep cleaning up your messes!"

James patted him on the shoulder. "I'll do it, if you can't find it in you. I'll take the cloak and find her myself. Hopefully she hasn't said anything already –"

Severus stood abruptly and smacked James's hand off of his shoulder. "I don't think she has. And I don't think she will," he said, fervently hoping that he was right.

"Can we afford to take that chance? More to the point, can you? It'll be you that pays the price for this one, mate," James said knowingly. "In fact, why don't we make it square? _I'll _take care of whoever-she-is, and then I will have saved your hide for once. Twice."

"That'd make it twice that you put me in danger before saving me, then," Severus snapped.

"Not to be a tattle-tale, but that other time was not my idea. Sirius always had a darker sense of humour than I did. But then, I don't really have to tell _you_ that."

Severus glared at him, his knuckles whitening. "If you think I'm going to just stand here and be mocked by you all day –"

"If _you_ think," James said loudly, drowning out Severus's inevitable insult, "that I'm not going to take a few jabs of my own while you sit in _my _kitchen and insult me, then you're stupider than you look. Also, I wasn't mocking you. I was just relating one of our shared experiences."

"_You _–" Severus began dangerously, his dark eyes full of venomous intent.

"Gentlemen," Lily interrupted once again, sensing an early vocabulary lesson that she'd prefer to have Harry skip. "If you don't stop acting like first-years, I'll throw you both out of _my_ house. I've changed my mind. I'm taking Harry upstairs so that he can play in his crib for a little bit. When I get back I want this sorted out. James, _stop _being a complete and utter prat, and Sev, please calm down! You both really need to get over it, whatever it is, and however you have to do it, do it, because I've had enough, and whether you both know it or not, so have you."

She turned on her heel and stomped off, and Harry waved at them over her shoulder.

"She's right, you know," James sighed. "This is always exhausting. If we could just agree to not argue so much our conversations would be a lot more efficient, and faster, which I think would be better for everyone."

"I wouldn't need to argue with you at all if you were the least bit cooperative," Severus snapped. "I wouldn't even have to _look_ at you."

"Listen to me, Snape. I will make you one promise, and one promise only. I will be as careful with my family's safety as you have been, and hopefully as careful as you will continue to be. I've made mistakes in the past, and I will learn from them. Beyond that, I promise nothing. I can't stay in the house forever, and neither can Lily, and if, God forbid, this… situation… lasts long enough, when Harry is older he can't stay here either. If I do go to see Remus and Sirius, I'll give them some sort of fake story. I'll run it by you first. Then if you hear anything, we'll know that they're not trustworthy. If we don't, I'll still keep lying to them and we'll hope for the best. I will also say this: I'm sorry about what happened in the past. I was a stupid kid and I rarely failed to act like one. But I grew up, and I married the love of my life, and now that I'm stuck in this house for eternity, and that's if you have your way, I've honestly never been happier. I think that you grew up too. You work for Dumbledore now. You'll do more to defeat Voldemort than I could ever hope to do, especially from inside and with my family's safety to consider. So, now that we're both grown-ups, let's move on, shall we?" He held out his hand tentatively.

Severus stared at him. James stared back. The seconds ticked by.

"Well?" James prompted cautiously. "Are you going to shake my hand or are you going to call me a big-headed moron again? Don't keep me in suspense."

"I've just had an idea," Severus said softly.

"What?" snapped James. Severus blinked, and appeared to suddenly notice James again.

"About all that – yes, fine. But I'm not going to shake your hand, and I'm not going to apologize or make any promises. If you want things to be pleasant between us, don't come near me. I'll be back next week, possibly sooner if something changes." With that, Severus strode forward, yanked a perhaps overlarge fistful of hair from James's head, and just as abruptly, he turned away.

He was through the front door before James could get over the shock enough to reply.

* * *

><p>It wouldn't be a perfect solution, but it was as close as Severus could possibly get to one at this point. He pumped this idea through his head feverishly, over and over again, as he scooped his carefully pre-brewed polyjuice potion out of a vat and into individual phials. It would have to do. It would work. It would save him.<p>

Even though he kept repeating these positive ideas in his mind, small niggles would surface to worry him. He could parade about as James Potter all he liked, in front of the entire school at breakfast the next morning if he wanted to, but Charity Burbage had still seen him talking to Potter – if anyone was looking too closely, they'd find him out. If _she_ was looking too closely, she'd find him out – an arrogant Gryffindor brat and only seventeen she may be, but she still couldn't possibly be fooled by a little more polyjuice potion. All his new plan would serve to do about his Charity Burbage problem was to make her think about what she had seen even more, and if she kept picking at it, eventually it would have to blow up in his face, wouldn't it?

Yet as he considered these problems, more and more his thoughts sounded like they were spoken in Dumbledore's voice; words like "superstitious" and "paranoid" reverberated around in his head. Images of the terrified and furious tyrant cowering in Malfoy's drawing room flashed in his brain. Why would the Dark Lord be interested in Charity Burbage's thoughts when the man who had eluded him so completely and who had mocked him so brazenly was on a rampage around Hogwarts, where he had no business being? What better way to take suspicion off of himself than to place it entirely on the man who was presently snug in his home, protected by a fidelius charm?

And the only problem with _that_, thought Severus, was the fact that Potter was very likely _not_ going to be snug in his home and protected… but clearly that was something that Severus could do nothing about. But that was just it – James Potter would _not_ be in his home, safe and sound. He would be out and up to something, and since Severus couldn't quite come up with _what_ Potter might be up to at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord would just have to try to figure it out for himself.


	20. Breakfast at Lucius's

An update? Ye baubles.*

* * *

><p>He had taken the potion, enough for an hour's worth of deception. He was sure that he wouldn't need nearly that much time, but he was leaving nothing to chance. He also had a substantial flask that Hagrid had given him tucked away in his robes, and he deeply hoped that he wouldn't have used anywhere close to that much potion at the end of the entire deception.<p>

There were some flaws in his plan, he knew. The first and very least important flaw was that he hadn't accounted for the possibility that his seventh year class might not be as diligent in their studies as he was requiring them to be. Earlier today he had set them an essay due tonight before dinner on all of the ingredients in draught of the living dead, how to properly prepare them, and in what order to add them to the potion, since none of them had managed to brew anything remotely passable in class that day. Happily, this was the sort of thing he did often, and it would raise absolutely no suspicion.

A third of the class was comprised of giggly girls with whom Charity Burbage could often be caught hanging around with. It was them he was targeting.

He was invisible again, and once he had snuck into the library it didn't take long to spot them. He took a deep breath in silent gratitude. They were here, and no mistaking. Madame Pince was sorting books with her self-moving cart and shooting them glares every so often.

Severus crouched behind the shelves nearest to them, listened to their inane chatter (some of which, he was unsurprised and supremely uninterested to learn, was bile about him), and waited.

"Bugger this," Danielle Derwent was muttering over her parchment. Nicola Edgecombe had piles of open books surrounding her and she was writing feverishly. Tabitha Smith and Mary Higgins were measuring their parchment out already.

"What am I supposed to write for another four and a half inches?" Mary whined.

"You could write about how each book contradicts the last. Drizzle the infusion of wormwood, add it drop by drop, first add the crushed sophophorus bean to the wormwood and _then_ add it to the potion," Nicola said irritably. "That should do you for another twenty inches."

"I just picked one set of instructions and hoped it was the right one," Mary said miserably. "I don't want to mention anything about contradicting instructions!"

"Just do it, Mary. It's not like _he_ doesn't know that there are a billion different ways to brew this blasted potion. And none of the ways you write about will be right, because _you're_ not in Slytherin." That was Elaine Bulstrode. Holly Hillock was sitting next to her, Severus was glad to see. He needed Holly to see him for sure.

"This book says that crushing the sophophorus bean with the – oh!"

The other girls looked up at Nicola, and Madame Pince shushed her furiously and much more loudly than the girl had exclaimed in the first place.

Nicola looked back at the shelves where she had seen Severus for just a moment. "I thought I saw – but – never mind. It's nothing. The flat of the blade and then – but every other book says to just cut it up, so –"

"What did you see, Nicola?" Holly asked.

Nicola looked up at her. "Nothing, Holly, just –"

"James Potter?"

The girls gaped at Holly.

"Hol, James Potter is –"

"I know," Holly snapped. "He's long graduated and he hasn't been seen in ages, but – Nicola?"

The girls looked at Nicola.

"Yeah, I saw him too."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Tabitha whispered.

"I know it doesn't!" Nicola hissed. "But I saw him."

"I saw him too," Holly whispered.

"Weird. You're both sharing hallucinations now," Elaine said into the uneasy silence. "Come on girls, get back to it. You all have to work much harder then me, and its due in two hours."

The girls started chattering about house politics and Professor Snape's favouritism, but Severus had left already. It was enough, for now. Nicola Edgecombe was enough of a gossip to ensure that the story spread. She wasn't the worst one, of course, but she would tell the worst ones. And Holly had seen too. Holly leant the moment's madness some credibility.

He would leave it for a week, and then he would appear to some other students. After two weeks, the entire school would be buzzing.

* * *

><p>It had been a month and a half since he had last left the Potters. He thought that he should probably pay them a visit soon, but there were still so many problems to take care of. The first problem was that Dumbledore had summoned him to his office.<p>

"Your plan is, I believe, to make it look as though James Potter is lurking around Hogwarts. What is it that you hope to accomplish by this?" the Headmaster was asking over a cup of tea.

"Well, Charity Burbage saw Potter talking to me. You said I shouldn't modify her memory, and I didn't. If Potter is stalking the halls around here, if the girl ever talks about what she saw her story will sound like an embellishment, and if it ever does get back to the Dark Lord I can easily deny it as such."

Dumbledore looked at him piercingly. "When Voldemort does hear about James's escapades at Hogwarts, he will ask you whether you have been sleeping on the job." Severus fidgeted irritably. "What do you intend to tell him, when he asks?"

"I'm going to tell him that you are using polyjuice potion to make it _look_ like Potter is in Hogwarts. I'm going to tell him that you're taunting him."

"And how," Dumbledore asked, "do you think he will respond to your explanation?"

"He will either kill me, or he will order me to find out more."

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed. "Why do all of your schemes have to be so dangerous?"

"You are the one who made me be the Potters' secret keeper, Dumbledore! What I have to do to succeed at that very dangerous task is also likely to be dangerous!" Severus longed to leave the office and get back to his thoughts. It was only a matter of time now, he believed, before the Dark Lord would summon him. The school was talking about it. _The Quibbler_ had done a month's worth of articles on it. _The Daily Prophet _had just yesterday made a tiny mention – it was offhand, but it was there. Soon the mentions would be longer. It wasn't just Hogwarts anymore, after all. People had seen him at The Three Broomsticks. He had walked tottering Bathilda Bagshot across busy London streets and helped her into The Leaky Cauldron. Wizards and witches had _stared._ He had just grinned and dissolved before their eyes.

Any moment now his dark mark would burn. He had to be prepared.

Dumbledore seemed to know his thoughts, because he said, "You may go if you wish, Severus. I only wanted to give you some more news, though doubtless you will read about it in tomorrow's paper. Millicent Bagnold is dead. Voldemort himself killed her."

Severus swallowed. "Who will be Minister?"

"As to that, the answer is quite clear. They are already calling for Bartemious Crouch to take the post. He has said that he wishes to wait while the mourning period for Minister Bagnold is observed. He needs some time to consider it, he says. But he will take the job."

Crouch. He could use that information to his advantage.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until the next evening that Severus was summoned to the Dark Lord's presence. He stood amongst a sea of masked figures in the Malfoys' atrium. Regulus Black was there, seated next to the Dark Lord, but Lucius himself, who went without his mask these days, was not.<p>

"Severus."

Behind the Death Eater mask, he shut his eyes, just for a moment, and stepped forward. "My Lord?"

The Dark Lord surveyed him coldly. "Explain. Explain this… _madness_… to me."

Severus inhaled. "My Lord… I cannot."

He would either kill him now, or…

"You cannot?" the Dark Lord echoed slowly. Severus had been given a short reprieve. He would have to make the most of it.

"The Headmaster has –"

"Do not speak to me about Albus Dumbledore!" The Dark Lord shrieked. "That old fool is but a _mouse_ compared to me! His powers are _nothing_ next to mine! Dumbledore is hiding James Potter at Hogwarts and you have been thus far unable to find him!"

"No, my Lord." This was a dangerous game he was playing, and Severus knew it. "Dumbledore does not know where the Potters are anymore."

"Fool! Of course he has told you this! You have not gained his trust in the _months_ that you have been next to him, whispering in his ear –"

"I assure you, my Lord, I have. Dumbledore does trust me. He asked me to brew polyjuice potion for him. I believe that he is using it to taunt you."

"What?"

"But my Lord, Potter is nothing. Potter is just an illusion of Dumbledore's to distract you from what he is really planning. Potter is not anywhere near Hogwarts, and Dumbledore has let slip – Rookwood has told you that the opportune moment to strike at the Ministry was upon you, but he is treacherous. Bartemious Crouch was simply waiting for a legitimate opportunity to take Bagnold's place so that he can implement much harsher laws against Death Eaters, suspected and proven. The Ministry is now stronger than ever without Bagnold. And Dumbledore has confessed that Augustus Rookwood belongs to him."

"Bartemious Crouch," the Dark Lord scoffed. "Crouch is nothing, Severus. You presume too much. It is Crouch who is nothing, and Potter is everything. If Dumbledore is taunting me, so be it. I shall teach him what it means for a mouse to dance too near a serpent. Rabastan. Approach me."

"Yes, my Lord?" the man said in a deep, unpleasant voice.

"The time is almost upon us."

Rabastan laughed, if the sound that emitted from him could indeed be called laughter. "Yes, my Lord."

"Severus, you may go. Learn all that you can about Dumbledore's deception. Bring me the puppet Dumbledore has strung up in Potter's clothes. _Do not fail me._"

"I won't, my Lord," Severus answered, unable to believe his luck.

He went to Dumbledore's office as soon as he got back. The Headmaster was gazing pensively out the window when Severus opened the door.

"It worked," Severus said, hoping that his unexpected giddiness at his unexpected success wasn't too obvious.

"I'm glad."

"Are you?"

"Of course I am, Severus," Dumbledore said, and for the first time Severus thought he could hear exasperation in the Headmaster's words. "The alternative would have meant your death, and so yes, I am glad that your plan worked."

Severus took his usual seat, stung. If the Headmaster only wanted bad news, Severus could give that to him as well. "The Dark Lord told Rabastan Lestrange that 'the time' was approaching."

"Hmm. Ominous."

"What could they be talking about? They already killed the Minister. Do you think they might be after Crouch now? But he told me that Crouch was nothing, so…"

"We shall have to be prepared for anything."

"And the Dark Lord said that if you really were taunting him, he would teach you what happens when a mouse dances too close to a serpent."

"Did he really?"

"I wouldn't make that up."

"In that case, perhaps what they are planning is to attack me directly. It would be a welcome surprise indeed."

Severus stared at the reflection of Dumbledore's face in the window. "Headmaster, I – this plan of mine was not about – I never meant to endanger you."

Was it the window that distorted them, or had his blue eyes really gone icy? "Endanger me? No, Severus. You haven't endangered me. Not in the slightest."

Severus leant back in his chair, thinking. They drifted into silence. Dumbledore was still facing away from him.

After a reasonable while, as far as Severus was concerned anyway, he decided that Dumbledore could do his pondering on his own. He cleared his throat. "So I really should be – I have one more deception planned. I should be preparing."

Dumbledore didn't answer, so he stood and went for the door.

"Severus," came the belated response.

"Yes?"

"Please be careful."

Severus sighed. "I'm always careful."

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Severus was finalizing preparations for his last stunt in Dumbledore's office. He hadn't slept at all, and with the small kind of shock one can manage when exhausted, he realized that once again he had gone a week without more than a few hours' worth of sleep.<p>

His final deception was simple, but he saw no reason why it wouldn't be effective. He planned to stride, disguised as James Potter, into the Great Hall in the middle of breakfast and walk right up to Dumbledore. What he would say when he got there was just some rubbish about more plans and other players. It didn't matter. The school was buzzing, and the students didn't need much to feed their gossip. He had heard that a pack of reporters had moved into Hogsmeade and were looking for any trace they could find, and a confirmed sighting of Potter talking to Dumbledore by the entire castle would have to be good enough for them.

He was just going over exactly what he would say (it wouldn't do to stumble over words, he had to seem confident) when an urgent tapping made him jump a foot in the air.

It was a sleek black owl tapping at the window. Severus stared at it for a moment, clutching his heart, and then waved his wand and let it in.

There was a wax sealed envelope. Severus recognized the seal from somewhere and was immediately on edge, though he couldn't quite place it. Once he opened the letter, though, it became clear.

_Severus,_

_I wonder if you might join me for breakfast this morning. Some others will be there, so dress appropriately. I will ensure that you are back in time to teach the first years their wormwood from their aconite. _

_I shall be expecting you in the atrium._

_Lucius_

His unease gradually washed away and was replaced with a burning curiosity. This was irregular. This was _dangerous_. He had to be there. He had to know.

He passed Hagrid on his way to Hogsmeade, who did a double take and made to make conversation, but Severus said, "Can't talk now, Hagrid, very busy." He ducked into the Hog's Head. The bartender glowered at him, as usual. Hagrid and the Hog's Head bartender, the two Dumbledore had assured him he could trust implicitly. Severus shook his head and looked around to ensure that the seedy bar was as empty as it usually was, and then he cloaked himself.

"If Dumbledore asks, I received a very interesting owl and had to miss breakfast," Severus said as he put his mask on. The bartender grunted in reply, but Severus had apparated before he could hear it.

The Malfoys' atrium was much emptier than it had been the previous evening. Lucius Malfoy was there, speaking to a tall masked figure who was still recognizable as the younger Lestrange brother. Narcissa was in the atrium as well with her young son. Severus hadn't seen her since her last year at Hogwarts. There were only a few others, all of them masked, except, of course, Regulus Black.

Lucius turned at the sound of his footsteps. "Ah. Severus."

"Good morning, Lucius. Narcissa. Regulus," Severus said, sounding like a stupid first-year again.

"Yes," Lucius said cordially, but then his eyes narrowed. "It is Severus?"

"Who else would it be?" said Regulus, who sounded monstrously bored. "Or did you invite _others _to your little breakfast party?"

"It is me. I had to walk down to Hogsmeade before I could apparate."

"Ah yes, Hogwarts security measures. No matter." He turned away again. "Rabastan," he drawled. "Make sure you speak to _Bellatrix_, who of the three of you has at least some sense. Tell her that they are to first and foremost ensure that the boy is still _alive_, Rabastan. Tell her that if he is not, I will make all of you very sorry."

"Yes, Lucius," Rabastan muttered uneasily. Those two words were the only ones Severus had ever heard Rabastan speak with some unease behind them. He marveled, the curiosity pounding ever more fiercely in his mind.

"You can go," Lucius said coldly. He waited until Rabastan's heavy footsteps had faded away and then turned to Severus once more. "Before you're off to teach first year potions, Severus, might I ask you a few questions about this Ministry hitch?" he said quietly. Narcissa looked over at him, and Regulus looked slightly less bored.

Severus blinked, and was glad for the mask for what seemed like the millionth time. He hadn't expected that question.

"Of course," was all he said.

"Is Rookwood really on the Order's side?"

"Dumbledore certainly seems to think so."

Lucius glanced at his wife, and then at Regulus. "That's odd. He's not the type, is he?"

"Maybe he's just a really good double agent," Regulus offered with half a glance at Severus. Unease began to creep back in.

Lucius took no notice, though. He looked back at Severus. "What are these 'harsher laws' Dumbledore spoke of?"

Severus had not been expecting to have to answer about his Ministry distraction to Lucius Malfoy. He had thought that the Dark Lord would question him, however, so the embellishments were prepared, and they came easily. Much of it was likely true, and even if it wasn't, the Ministry changed its collective mind all the time. "Beyond allowing for the Aurors to use unforgivable curses during battles, Crouch intends to begin using the imperious curse against suspected Death Eaters to create the Ministry's own cursed double agents. He intends to legalize the use of veritaserum against suspected Death Eaters during trials as well."

"Veritaserum? Are you sure?" Lucius had gone uncharacteristically wide-eyed.

"Dumbledore was most unhappy."

"Of course he was, the doddering fool. And for once, we agree on something. Thank you, Severus. This will have to be further examined."

Severus heard the dismissal, and wondered if he should press Malfoy further. He decided to risk it. He had been dismissed enough. "The Dark Lord seemed insistent that sightings of James Potter at Hogwarts were the real threat," he said smoothly.

Narcissa took her son and left the atrium without a word. Regulus leant back against the pristine wall behind him.

Lucius's eyes narrowed again. "Indeed he did, Severus. And we must not question the Dark Lord. Not even when he orders _Bellatrix Lestrange_ of all people to keep a toddler alive for longer than half a minute." With that, he turned on his heel. "I'm afraid we've neglected to feed you, Severus. Feel free to stay. I shall summon Dobby for you."

CRACK! The house elf appeared and stood silently.

Lucius gestured for the rest of his masked companions to go through a small, private door. Regulus went through second to last, and glanced at Severus before he disappeared. Lucius, on the other hand, didn't look back.

"Would you like some breakfast, sir?" the House Elf squeaked.

Severus just stood as though his boots were frozen to the Malfoys' crystalline floor. Something had clicked. How could it not have? Lucius Malfoy had said it plain as day, and now Severus had no choice –

By the time he had apparated from the Malfoy Manor, leaving Dobby bemused but free to go back to the ironing, Severus had decided that he was tired, so tired, of things clicking, and he had vowed never to be curious again.

* * *

><p><em>Here is a chance to ensure my own torturous death<em>, Severus thought ruefully to himself. _And apparently I'm taking it_. Even if his masquerade as James Potter took suspicion off of him in the unlikely scenario that Charity Burbage might have blabbed about the encounter she witnessed, what he was about to do could not be explained away. But he had no choice. He was Dumbledore's man now, and Dumbledore would not accept anything less than every life-risking stunt that Severus could muster, despite how concerned the Headmaster claimed he was about Severus's safety.

He supposed that he could go to Dumbledore and let him deal with this, but he didn't know how much time he had. If Rabastan had gone to Bellatrix already, they might now be closing in – indeed, it might already be too late.

He guessed that they were holed up in Frank's home, a cozy cottage as far away from his mother's old Victorian mansion deep in London as he and Alice could get. Dumbledore spoke of Order meetings that he was sorry Severus would have to miss, and many of them took place in Brambleberry Cottage before the Longbottoms had gone into hiding. Dumbledore let on that they had left the country, but Severus had heard that one before.

He was there in an instant. He removed his mask and pounded on the front door.

There was silence for an unbearably long moment, but finally the door creaked open.

It was only open a crack, but Severus recognized her round face and her big, kind eyes at once. "You!" she gasped, her eyes growing, if it was possible, bigger, and much less kind.

"Alice, I know what you – but you have to listen to me. The Lestranges are coming – the Dark Lord is sending them to take your son to him. You have to come with me to Dumbledore, he can protect you."

He didn't know how much time he had left. Surely Rabastan had contacted his sister-in-law by now, and Lucius had told them to make sure the child was alive. Severus glanced wildly behind him at the sky, as if to see the three of them swooping down on him. "Alice, please, you have to believe me, there isn't any time for any explanation –"

"Come in, come in!" she hissed, and she opened the door wider.

"Only for a minute, we have to go _now!_ They can't see me here, and they'll kill you!" He was hissing too now, and he wondered what speaking quietly could do for them once the Lestranges arrived. He darted inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

He turned to find Alice just standing there, staring at him, one hand clutching her forearm convulsively.

"What are you waiting for?" he spat. "Get your kid and Frank and –"

But he stopped there.

Behind her, the house was trashed. There were scorch marks on the floor and on the walls. A part of the ceiling had caved in. The curtains were torn and burned. There was broken glass everywhere. Overhanging everything was a smell that spoke volumes more than the ruined house.

Mostly, though, there was Alice Longbottom, and then there wasn't Alice Longbottom, because Alice Longbottom had never looked quite so deranged.

There was a moment in which the two stared at each other, in which they both began to reach for their wands, in which Severus realized that the only reason he was still alive was because the dark mark wasn't there on her arm, and it couldn't be there because she was using polyjuice potion. And then he had his wand out first, unbelievably, miraculously, and he wondered as he killed her whether the fates hadn't decided to be on his side for once after all.

She fell to the floor with a comically inept thud, and he stared at her, unable to believe how lucky he was that he had realized what she was in time. _Dumbledore be damned_, Severus thought to himself, still staring. _Safe, he said they were. Safe._

He had even less time than he had originally thought, so he wrenched his eyes from Bellatrix's body, still disguised for the moment as Alice Longbottom, and moved through the house. Amongst the rubble he first found Augusta Longbottom. Her face was full of grim determination and her stuffed vulture hat was askew. Severus judged her quite recentlyly dead. It may have been only a day or two since she had been killed. Next was Rodolphus, slumped against the wall with his head blown open like you only saw in bad muggle films. Augusta's work, he guessed. Or maybe Bellatrix's. Rodolphus was relatively fresh too.

If Rabastan had discovered that his brother lay dead… Even if he hadn't, he would have seen the damage… he would have gone straight back to Lucius by now, and Lucius – would he cut his losses and leave Bellatrix to face the Dark Lord's wrath? If so, the Dark Lord was on his way. He left the main part of the house and turned down a narrow hallway.

Next he found the child. He was lying in a soiled crib, seemingly unfazed by the damage all around him. His diaper looked clean but yellowed with age, his ribs were showing, and he was sucking his thumb. He gazed at Severus through eyes as hollow as his cheeks. He hadn't been starved, but the damage that had been done was enough as far as Severus was concerned. He retched, and tried to calm his mind enough to determine what needed doing first.

He heard a muffled noise behind him, across the hall in the other room, and whipped around, his wand raised. In the darkened room across the hall he found the real Alice Longbottom, bruised and battered and bound to the floor, and Frank half-bound, sprawled, and dead.

Alice looked up at him.

He didn't know what to say, and was glad when she spoke first.

"Where have you been?" she asked. "Where have any of you been?"

He thought it was an odd question to ask him, but he let it go. "No time," he said. "Come on, I'll take you and your son to Dumbledore. We have to leave now. He is coming."

The real Alice didn't delay him. She was almost as heartbreakingly thin as her son, but once he destroyed the bonds holding her down she stood as steadily as the healthiest and strongest of Aurors, and it was she who scooped the child up and held him as they prepared to apparate.

But they were too late to leave without being seen. The door exploded into tiny shards before their eyes, and the Dark Lord stepped into the house.

He stared at Severus and screamed. Severus stared back at him, horrified at the rage and hatred, at the twisted sound that was not human and that was not animal. The child began to cry in Alice's arms. She hugged him closer with one arm and grabbed Severus's hand as the Dark Lord raised his wand. They whirled and were gone, the Dark Lord's scream echoing in Severus's ears.

Alice had taken them to Hogsmeade, to the middle of the main street, and Severus, still shaken by the Dark Lord's face as he had just seen it, so twisted with hatred and… _fear, it had been fear_, stood unmoving. Alice released him.

"Can I borrow your wand?" she asked quietly.

He handed it to her soundlessly, aware but uninterested that faces, too many faces were turning towards them. More and more people were glancing over. Whispers were getting louder, turning to talk and one or two shouts.

_I've done it,_ he was thinking. _I've blown everything, with one stupid rescue mission. I've done something James Potter would've done._

Alice was seemingly as untroubled by the excitement surrounding them as Severus was. She was using her wand to cloth her son more properly for the chill of early spring. But when she was done, she looked up, and noticed.

"James," she said, nudging him.

Severus came back to reality so fast that the wind went out of his chest. _James. JAMES._

Polyjuice potion. He'd been enchanted with polyjuice potion the whole time. He had drunk it while still in Dumbledore's office.

How could they not have known? The mask covered his face, but surely, _surely_ Lucius Malfoy would have noticed, shrewd as he was these days. But he had, hadn't he, he had noticed something was wrong – it was only Severus himself who hadn't noticed a thing – _how_ could he have been so _stupid?_

He got his breath back just as a goateed photographer's camera went off. The curly-haired witch standing next to him shouted, "James Potter, what _have _you been up to all this time? And why the resurfacing _now_? My readers are itching to know –"

Severus seized Alice by the arm and half-dragged her into the Hog's Head. The perpetually surly bartender already had the door open and was glowering at them. "Get inside and use the fire," the bartender snapped, gesturing at the crackling green flames in his grate.

Severus made Alice go first. He glared at the bartender as she vanished from sight, and without a word he joined her in Dumbledore's office. "I have to go," he said breathlessly as he tumbled gracelessly out of the fireplace. Dumbledore, Severus was interested to see, was open-mouth gob smacked. "I'll talk to you later."

With that he swept from the office and strode through crowded Hogwarts halls, which only became more crowded as shouts rang out behind him.

"Is that –"

"Did I just see –"

"James Potter! Oy! It's James Potter!"

Severus ducked into a disused classroom and used the disillusionment charm on himself. He sunk to the floor under the blackboard and rested his head on his knees.

That would have to do. It was better than anything he had planned anyway. There had even been a snapshot, and it'd be front page Daily Prophet for sure.

But how – _how_ had he not realized…

He was furious with himself.

He sat like that for a long time and was undisturbed except for Peeves, who went wheeling and cackling through the blackboard for ten minutes for no discernable reason.

After what felt like several hours, the door opened slowly, and the Headmaster stepped in.

"Severus, you can come out now."

"How did you know I was here?" Severus sighed, unmoving.

"Have you forgotten who I am?"

Severus stood and undid the charm. He looked down at himself, and it really was himself standing in the classroom. As one, Dumbledore and Severus sat. Severus sat at the teacher's desk, and Dumbledore looked rather bizarre sitting behind one of the student's desks.

"You rescued Alice and Neville Longbottom."

"Yes."

"Disguised as James Potter."

"Yes."

Dumbledore was silent for a long time. Severus almost groaned when something else clicked in his mind.

"It wasn't my plan, Dumbledore. My plan was to walk into the Great Hall. If I had known about the Longbottoms in advance I would have told you, I wouldn't have kept the knowledge to myself just for the hell of it. Lucius Malfoy summoned me for breakfast and he let slip that the Lestranges were closing in on them, and when I went there Bellatrix was disguised as Alice. I noticed just in time to kill her before she killed me. I didn't realize that –" but he couldn't finish that last sentence. "Anyway, it worked out much better than my original plan would have."

"Except for one flaw."

"Yes."

"How are we going to explain away James's miraculous knowledge of where and when to find Alice Longbottom and her baby?"

"I was hoping that you could tell me that."

"I can, as it happens."

Severus met Dumbledore's eyes.

"Barty Crouch will take full credit. He will say that he was working on a new and questionable method of surveillance, and Rabastan Lestrange had been the target because of the odd disappearance of his brother and dear Bellatrix. He will grudgingly admit that James Potter, who has close contacts in the Auror department, interfered with their overall plans for the Lestranges, but that his reckless interference is what ultimately saved Alice and the boy."

"You've arranged all that, have you?"

"Rather brilliant, is it not?"

"Lucius will see through it."

"Oh, I doubt it," Dumbledore paused and glanced at the classroom's window. "I hear that Rookwood is dead. His body was delivered in pieces to the Ministry not long ago. I didn't think Voldemort would ever be so brazen about his butchery."

"That was my fault. I said Rookwood was working for you."

"I thought as much. At least it's Rookwood's body in pieces, and not yours."

"My thoughts exactly."

They sat silently for a while, and then Dumbledore spoke. "You just happened to have the potion on you, did you, when you rushed off to rescue the Longbottoms?"

Severus said nothing.

"Severus. You need to sleep."

Severus didn't argue. They didn't speak again. Dumbledore rose and left the classroom, and a few moments later Severus followed. He went to the dungeons and sank into his bed. He did not dream or stir, and he only woke up after two days had passed.

* * *

><p>*I'm sorry about the four month wait. That was absurd. I just had a lot of trouble with this chapter, and you probably can tell why. .<p>

I think that in order to avoid this happening again, I'm going to take some time, finish the story (or at least the bulk of it), and then post the rest of the chapters with only maybe a week (or just a few days) in between each. It **should not **take me longer than another four monthsto finish the story. But I guess it takes as long as it takes.

In other news, Happy New Year!


	21. James Potter's Puppet Master

Er. Story still isn't done, but it's getting there! Next chapter? Next week.

* * *

><p>When Severus woke up everything was different, and he learned all about reading an old paper at the Potters' kitchen table.<p>

James was leaning back against the doorway, frowning at him.

Severus ignored him and stared at the headline, feeling faint. _M.I.A. HERO JAMES POTTER RESCUES AUROR, SAVES BABY, KILLS DANGEROUS DEATH EATER, RIGHT BEFORE YOU-KNOW-WHO'S EYES_. He would have laughed at all of it if he wasn't still so horrified.

He had forgotten about the potion. He had created his own trap and then he had walked right into it. He had wasted too much time and he had been caught by the Dark Lord. He had seen the Dark Lord's _face_…

The article was almost breathless in its description of what he (as Potter) had looked like, apparating there in the middle of the street having just escaped certain death. It detailed how thin and skeletal Alice Longbottom had appeared. It painted the baby Neville as the world's most cherubic, innocent creature to have ever existed. The boy was just a baby, of course, but the article was salivating over him in a most embarrassing way. It claimed that Alice had been clutching at Potter the way a muggle princess might clutch on to a knight.

As gaudy as it all was, he was despairing not so much at the lack of journalistic integrity flaunted by the article, but instead at the simple fact that all of it had happened the way that it did. A part of him wished he had left the Longbottoms to their fate. It would have been the intelligent thing to do.

He decided that it would be less awful to turn his attention to the actual James Potter. "You can't honestly be mad at me. You're getting all of the credit for some heroic thing that you didn't even have to do –"

"I'm not mad that you saved Alice and her son," James snapped. "I'm just waiting for you to say it."

"What am I supposed to say? I'd be happy to oblige," Severus muttered, pushing the paper away distastefully.

"That you think I still can't go out."

Severus thought about it for a moment. "I don't know why you'd think that what just happened changes anything, especially for the better."

James gave him a flourished bow. "And there you go."

"I saw his face, while I was pretending to be you," Severus said, and to his surprise his voice sounded almost airy, flippant, as though the memory of it didn't still terrify him. "Trust me. Stay inside."

"I am not afraid of that – of that _thing_ you call a 'Dark Lord,'" James scoffed. "I don't care if he tortures me –"

"That's all well and good for you to say now –"

"And I don't mean that in some lousy disrespectful way about you and what you've been through but honestly, Snape –"

"When you've never actually been tortured by him or any of his Death Eaters –"

"He could hurt me, he could kill me, he could even play his pathetic mind games on me, I _would not care_, I would laugh in his face –"

"While I, on the other hand, have endured what everyone goes in fear of time and time again, and all because I have been putting everything at stake in order to keep you alive –"

"Because as long as he doesn't have Lily or Harry, there's _nothing_ that he can do –"

"You _still_ don't understand that the world isn't some enormous playground created only for you to strut around in, playing the hero all of the time –"

"And even if he _could_ get to me with his curses it would be nothing compared to what he's done already, making me sit here, day after day while my friends are out there –"

"You don't even begin to understand what it is that you want – to be a real hero you have to actually face the things you fear the most and clearly that isn't death or pain or the Dark Lord –"

"They're doing what _I _should be doing, they're being useful and helping to fight this war – for God's sake Snape, _you_ – what _you _are doing, that's what _I _should be doing, I should be out there helping you –"

"It's not just about bursting in at exactly the right moment and saving people from Death Eaters – if you'd just for one second STOP THINKING ABOUT YOURSELF ALL THE TIME –"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT ME, SNAPE –"

"OF COURSE IT IS, POTTER! IT ALWAYS IS, IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN –"

"IT'S ABOUT BEING USEFUL!"

"AND YOU STILL DON'T SEE HOW SELFISH YOU'RE BEING! THE WORLD IS GETTING ALONG FINE WITHOUT YOU, POTTER!"

In the silence that followed they heard Lily, who was upstairs, say, "When you're a big boy you'll express yourself in a civilized, well-mannered way, won't you, sweetheart? Promise mummy."

Harry replied, "MAGIC MOOSE MUMMY MOOSE MUMMY MOOOOOOSE!"

"That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?" Severus snapped. "It's not about helping people, it's about watching other people do what needs to be done while you have to wait inside to fight another day."

"Maybe you're right, Snape. Maybe I can't handle it. Maybe I have to go out, even if it is selfish."

"You don't have to do anything. You can choose to think things through. If you are actually interested in being the hero instead of just playing at one, face your fears. Stay inside."

James crossed his arms. "I can't."

* * *

><p><em>Crouch on Potter-Longbottom Rescue<em>

_Just a few days ago in Hogsmeade, shoppers stood shocked as a battle-worn and exhausted-looking James Potter, who, close friends have since divulged, has not been seen for more than six months, apparated in the middle of town with Alice Longbottom, also long missing, and her baby, Neville. Even more shocking is the story behind the unexpected appearance, which was the subject of a Prophet-exclusive interview Minister for Magic Bartemius Crouch gave last night._

_According to the Minister, James Potter has been a part of the Ministry initiative to rescue the Longbottoms from brutal captivity in their own home at the hands of the Lestrange family, notorious supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Crouch told your Daily Prophet reporter, "For months the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been suspicious about the disappearances of several well-respected families, and the Longbottom disappearance in particular has been worrisome. It was clear to many of us in the department, even if it wasn't as clear to some others, that the Longbottoms would not simply disappear from wizard society, as they are capable Aurors and well-known Ministry employees." By happy chance, the Department was investigating the Longbottoms' disappearance as well as surveilling Rabastan Lestrange due to the disappearances of his brother Rodolphus and sister-in-law Bellatrix. The disappearances, as we now know all too well, were linked._

_As to how James Potter, who has never been a Ministry employee, came to be a part of the investigation and to eventually single-handedly carry out the rescue mission, Crouch said, "Upon the discovery of James Potter's whereabouts, the Department was able to offer sufficient security for his family, and this allowed him to resume his fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a Ministry agent, rather than participating in activities that were unregulated, dangerous, and certainly not Ministry-approved. I will admit, with enthusiasm now that Alice and little Neville are in safe hands, that with Mr. Potter's help, finding the Longbottoms became significantly easier."_

_What happened next may be hard for some readers to believe. James Potter discovered that the Longbottoms were not "safe and properly hidden" as his mentor Albus Dumbledore had suggested that they were by following a tip provided by his own network of friends. Before Potter joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he had been a member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, an underground group headed by the Headmaster aimed at making trouble for Death Eaters. When trouble followed Potter home, Dumbledore told him to hide, just as he told Frank and Alice Longbottom, who also dabbled in the vigilante group. "This case in particular highlights why people should leave the law enforcement work to the Aurors," Crouch said._

_James Potter single-handedly attacked the Lestranges, but help arrived too late for Augusta Longbottom and her son Frank. Potter was only able to whisk Alice and Neville away just in time to avoid a confrontation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, who, according to Crouch, was intent on using the child in an ancient curse which would have afforded He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named much greater power than he even now possesses. "It has something to do with using the murder of an innocent pureblood baby and the use of an ancient magical object to contain the power in the child's blood," Crouch said._

_When asked why Potter was alone on the rescue mission, perpetually unruffled Crouch did become a tad ruffled. "Mr. Potter did not wait for the go-ahead from his superior. In this case, it saved two lives. But perhaps if he had waited, Augusta and Frank may too have been saved. We will never know."_

_Crouch went on to divulge new information gleaned in an important partnership with an unnamed source close to You-Know-Who. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Crouch said, "was once in fact known by a name forgotten even by friends that he had in his Hogwarts days: Tom Riddle. Riddle was the son of a pureblood witch and a muggle. Though he has maintained his claim to perfect pureblood status trickling down his ancestry all the way to Salazar Slytherin, the magical blood comes only from his mother's side. My source suspects that the jealousy Riddle felt about his pureblood acquaintances' stronger bloodlines may have influenced his actions from a very early age. His attacks of notable purebloods, most recently, of course, upon the respected Longbottom family, as well as his obsession with pureblood James Potter's half-blood son Harry strongly support my source's theory."_

_Crouch said that the Ministry is looking carefully into other pureblood supporters of You-Know-Who. Evidence has arisen about the Lestrange family's ties to an entirely muggle branch, and Bellatrix Lestrange herself had a half-blood niece. Crouch said that the recent arrest of Arthur Weasley, notable pureblood muggle-enthusiast, was part of an effort to investigate a trend in pureblood supporters of You-Know-Who who may be interested in taking power away from purebloods and distributing it to lesser wizards and even to muggles._

* * *

><p>Dumbledore sat with his head in his hands. Regulus Black stood in a shadowy corner and stared out at the grounds through the window.<p>

"This," Dumbledore said, finally looking up and at the blank space of wall directly across from him, "was not at all what I had planned."

"I'm not his source," Regulus said quietly.

"Obviously not," Dumbledore replied with uncharacteristic harshness, "but indirectly you most certainly are. As, of course, am I."

"You didn't think they'd be able to twist it like this."

"No," Dumbledore said. "I did not."

The Headmaster sighed and turned to watch Fawkes pick at an unruly feather between his wings. He arranged it and rearranged it, and finally he just plucked it out and let it drift to the floor. The great bird turned his bright eyes up from the discarded feather and looked straight at Dumbledore. Fawkes gave a low, shimmering cry.

"What happens next?" Regulus asked.

"Voldemort falls. The Ministry rises. And we endure."

Fawkes sounded his cry again.

* * *

><p>Charity was beside herself, and Holly was sick of it, sick of her, sick of that bloody Prophet article, sick of Crouch, sick of James Potter, sick of <em>everything<em>. People stared at them as they walked to and from the Library, classes they had together, the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, and they weren't staring at Holly anymore. Any notoriety she had earned as the only surviving family member after a Death Eater attack had diminished after the Hogwarts Express, and it had disappeared entirely the moment Charity gave an enraged speech the morning Crouch's Prophet interview about James Potter and the Longbottom lady in the Great Hall. She had even stood up. She had waved a fork around with hash browns still skewered on it. She had been mocked to death but Charity had ignored all of it. The more people mocked her the louder she got. The louder she got, the more people mocked her. It was a vicious and headache-inducing cycle.

Charity had always been pretty loud and she had never cared who was listening to her. Listening to her raging against the Prophet and the Ministry was nothing new – not if you were ever within hexing distance of Charity Burbage, anyway. People had never been able to help hearing bits and pieces of her complaints and opinions, but this time things were different. She quoted the article _constantly_, interrupting herself with annotations that became more advanced and yet more ferocious with each repeated performance. She did this even in front of teachers, often during class when she was supposed to be taking notes or practicing spells.

In potions, someone passed around a doodle of Charity expanding and turning brighter and brighter red until she finally exploded. When it found its way into Charity's hands, she set it on fire, stood up like she had when the article first came out, and accused the entire class of being thoughtless, mindless, selfish sleepwalkers. Snape had frowned at her and announced that she'd be doing detention that night. He had never sounded more bored. Charity served her detention with Flitwick. Word was she had annoyed him so much he cast a freezing charm on her until detention was over, but Charity just laughed whenever anyone referenced that rumour. She told Holly in a fit of self-congratulatory indulgence that she and Flitwick had spent the time cussing out the Prophet and Crouch together over a huge sack of Bertie Bott's.

It had been a week already and Charity was showing no signs of calming down about it. "… and Arthur Weasley. ARTHUR WEASLEY. This is some kind of fiction, Holly, because real life is not this demented. I refuse to be governed by these people, I really do. I'll tear the whole building down if I have to, brick by sodding brick." Holly sighed, muttered some sort of feeble agreement about how the Ministry needed to be burned, and excused herself to take a bath where Charity, out of common decency, couldn't follow her. Even though she pumped a vulgar amount of soap, suds, and bubbles into the tub, she couldn't get Charity's voice to stop ringing in her ears. Bloody Charity. Bloody Daily Prophet. Bloody Arthur Weasley. All she wanted was some peace.

* * *

><p>Severus grudgingly brought them that particular paper when he brought them some more supplies - a week and a half after it had been published.<p>

They read it once he had left.

Lily and James stared at each other.

"Oh God," Lily finally said.

James set fire to it with a savage flick of his wand.

* * *

><p>When Severus first read the article (he had waited a couple of days out of fear that it wouldn't be convincing enough – and out of a small hope that if he didn't read the article he would wake up in a world where he lived a solitary, simple life and James Potter didn't exist) he had been more interested in a smaller story. He found it on one of the few pages that didn't in some way reference his enormously stupid actions. Madame Malkin was a tad annoyed at the graffiti that had been appearing down the front edge of her shop in Diagon Alley for the past week now. It's not that she was against the overall message, of course, especially not since what she'd heard happened on the previous day. But it did make it look like she alone was making a bold statement, and she wished some of the other shops might start getting similarly decorated so that she could keep the messages up without fearing for her life.<p>

The message had started small, but last night it appeared in enormous, glimmering brick letters:

"POTTER LIVES"

* * *

><p>The two months that followed looked something like this:<p>

_The Real James Potter Sighted?_

… _but in the midst of mystery shrouding the whereabouts of the hero, Ms. Doris Crockford claims to have spotted the real James Potter, as opposed to the mass replicas of him that have lately been taking to the streets, only yesterday. In just a few of the more recent episodes, James Potters have set off firecrackers that display anti-You-Know-Who messages in stars and sparks, have aided elderly shoppers crossing busy muggle London streets in full wizard robes, have drawn muggle crowds and made muggle papers by pulling parrots and cockatiels out of passersby's ears, have wandered Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade simultaneously prophesying the doom of You-Know-Who, and in the most reported incident last week, several of them blasted through Knockturn Alley, leaving shops vandalized, windows smashed, and Borgins and Burkes in shambles. _

_Crockford insists that the man she saw was indeed the real James Potter; he was enjoying a Florean Fortescue ice cream on Saturday, and Crockford insists, "The Cherry-Caramel Gryffinbopper has always been his favourite, everyone knows that."_

_When asked for comment, Sirius Black, generally considered to be Potter's best friend and closest confidant, said only, "Bugger off, the lot of you." He later hexed Prophet photographer Bozolophus Bogpinks in a tavern incident and has since …_

* * *

><p><em>The Weasley Trial Begins<em>

_Minister for Magic Bartemius Crouch said last night that the trial of Arthur Weasley will likely be a lengthy affair due solely to Weasley's steadfast refusal to admit to any crimes, rather than to a Ministry plot to hold Weasley without trial because of a lack of evidence against him, as protesters have been claiming. Crouch said in a Prophet-exclusive interview yesterday that the reasons for Weasley's prolonged incarceration without even setting a date for a trial were due to the need to approve new methods of interrogation. "Weasley and those like him pose a real threat to the wizarding world," Crouch said. "Unsurprisingly, he has been reluctant to confess to his crimes, and so to protect the community these unfortunate measures have to be taken." The Ministry has just last week approved the use of Veritaserum during a trial before the Wizengamot, with the approval of the use of the Imperius curse still pending. _

_Weasley's interrogation before the Wizengamot began early yesterday morning. He was asked whether he felt that purebloods were born with superior magical ability. Under the influence of truth serum Weasley confessed that he does not believe purebloods are at all able to produce superior magic than half-bloods or muggle-borns. He also confessed that he believed muggles to be equally capable of mental capacity and emotion to their wizard counterparts, and that they are perfectly acceptable companions and partners for wizards. _

_I spoke one-on-one with Weasley after the interrogation was over and after, of course, the effects of Veritaserum had worn off. _

_Rita: Mr. Weasley, can you tell my readers candidly whether you believe that the truth serum impacted your answers in this trial? In short, would you have been so self-damning if you'd had the choice?_

_Weasley: My answers would of course have been different without the Veritaserum. I would have said that I do not believe that there is any important difference between a pureblood, half-blood, muggle-born, or muggle, and I'd have added that I am fairly certain that there is also no discernible difference between Barty Crouch and fermented baboon excrement._

_R: Ah. So, if anything, you'd have been more self-damning._

_W: I suppose that's the way someone like you, and perhaps a good number of your readers, might look at it._

_R: Aren't you at all worried about how your bursts of uncouthness and decided lack of loyalty to your own kind might affect your children in future? How many of them did you say you have?_

_W: I have seven young children, and I am not at all worried about them while they are in my wife's care, and while their father still has a head on his shoulders._

_While many a Wizengamot member was openly shocked by Weasley's Veritaserum-tamed answers during the interrogation, many, within and without, have shown a surprising amount of support for him. Amelia Bones was clearly heard, as she marched to her seat before the trial began, declaring, "I would have resigned a week ago, but that I have to see this farce for myself before I'll believe it." Many like her have quietly questioned Minister Crouch's choices to imprison and charge Weasley, as well as allowing Veritaserum to be used lawfully as an interrogation aid. The objections are louder outside of the courtroom. The atrium was briefly taken over by a gaggle of protesters. A dirty-blond Hogwarts student shot protest lyrics out of her wand and led the chants, "Free Arthur Weasley, the Minister is sleazy," and "Free Arthur Weasley, the greater threat is Barty," which, to be fair, were rather impressive rhymes from someone who feels that taking a NEWT-level Muggle Studies class is an intelligent decision._

_Weasley will be interrogated again on Thursday. This time the questions will center on Weasley's knowledge of suspected Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's blood status._

* * *

><p><em>Letters to the Editor (Rejected File)<em>

_Disgusting Waste of Ink and Paper_

_If you knew enough about me, Ms. Skeeter, to report that I am a NEWT-level muggle studies student, I have to wonder why you referred to me simply as "a dirty-blond Hogwarts student." My name is Charity Burbage, and I denounce you, the sorry excuse for a paper that you write for, and our entire Ministry as worse than scum. They've locked a man in Azkaban for no reason other than his commendable belief in the equality and dignity of all people. Shame on the lot of you._

* * *

><p><em>Tom Riddle Exposed<em>

_Just yesterday in a Prophet-exclusive, Lucius Malfoy and Minister Barty Crouch rocked the wizarding world about never-before-heard information about You-Know-Who's past. Today wizards everywhere are asking one big question: how did all of this come to the surface?_

_The answer is the long-standing and dangerous friendship between Crouch and Lucius Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy has been a longtime financial backer of Crouch and a quiet informant on all of the inner workings of You-Know-Who's operations. Crouch admits, "It was Lucius who opened my eyes to the quiet peril this Tom Riddle was placing pureblood wizards in. We had always been led to understand that You-Know-Who was against muggles and muggle-borns. Radical types like Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore had been open about how hate-filled the Death Eaters and such were towards wizards with lesser blood status and muggles, but it became clear through this partnership that what Tom Riddle was really after was the power that only pure blood could offer him, which left all of us, especially our pureblood children, vulnerable to both his allure as a cult leader and his parasitic tendencies."_

_Mr. Malfoy and the Minister are even now working on new ways to use this sensitive information about Tom Riddle's past to bring the Death Eaters down. More on page 31_

* * *

><p><em>James Potter, Man or Myth?<em>

… _while some are absolutely positive that the real James Potter has been dead for months. Most still believe that Potter is actually orchestrating the entire thing, from the vandalism to the public acts of flouting the Statute of Secrecy. _

"_He was always known to be a bit of a trouble-maker," says Mrs. Marjory Whittle. "Everyone loved him for it. Of course, that was Hogwarts, where anything goes as we know, with Dumbledore as Headmaster and all, and you'd hope that he grew up some. Not that I'm complaining about him saving that little boy and his mother, obviously that was gallant, but showing off magic for muggles on the streets? He should know better."_

_Mr. Borgin, partner and owner of Borgin and Burkes, a month ago demolished in a shocking display of vandalism from a pack of James Potters, wonders what Potter's young son has to do with it all. "The boy is a half-blood, is he not? Clearly the man is a Riddle-sympathizer, and is hoping to groom his son as Riddle's successor."_

_Whether or not Potter's half-blood son is …_

* * *

><p><em>Weasley Trial Gets Ugly<em>

_It seems ages ago that the trial of Arthur Weasley began. The time it has taken to convict the man clearly shows on him; his face is much thinner than it was before, his hairline has receded much further, and he appears pale and paler as each day goes by. Even steadfast Weasley condemners are growing tired of the trial, openly and loudly wondering why it has taken the Wizengamot so long to convict him for Riddle-sympathizing. In an attempt to speed up the process, the Ministry is trying to force through the use of the Imperius curse in trial situations. Crouch has also appointed Ms. Dolores Umbridge as the head of Weasley's interrogation, stating that he believes Ms. Umbridge a capable interrogator with fresh eyes. "She will be able to ask questions that we have not thought of yet, and she will do so with an eye for conviction. It won't be long now."_

_What is certainly not doing anything to help matters is the war that has broken out on wizard streets and within the Ministry itself. "Free Arthur Weasley" campaign members and supporters have taken to manning protest stations at all hours of the day, and a growing crowd of protesters opposing the campaign have taken to standing opposite them and trying to drown their chants out. Only a week ago the Ministry came to a standstill when Weasley supporters once again surged into the Atrium, and this time it took two days to clear them out. Crouch has maintained that this was due to a Ministry-wide agreement to allow the protesters to have their say, but head of the "Free Arthur Weasley" campaign Charity Burbage insists that they were able to hold the Atrium because of growing support against Crouch in the Auror Department. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a young and inexperienced Auror, is at least one Auror showing a general lack of content with the Weasley trial. "The fact is, Weasley has not committed any crimes. If he had, under Veritaserum, he would have been convicted by now. It is time for the Wizengamot to admit defeat and free the man." Since these remarks, Shacklebolt has been undergoing a thorough inquiry._

_Hexing wars between opposing protesters have broken out several times, mostly in Diagon Alley. Both sides claim that their opposing sides began each attack. Each time, Weasley supporters identified as the perpetrators were taken into Ministry custody. All protestors were released just hours after each incarceration, and a growing whisper is that Albus Dumbledore himself stormed in to argue on the protestors' behalf every time. Dolores Umbridge asked the Prophet yesterday, "Would the Hogwarts Headmaster argue on behalf of Anti-Weasley protestors, if the case should arise that any of them be arrested?" Many are echoing her words._

* * *

><p><em>Baby Harry and What Riddle's Fixation on Him Means<em>

… _that it has been generally accepted that Riddle's obsession with the boy requires a thorough Ministry investigation at the very least. Some are even going so far as to demand that the Ministry immediately storm the Potters' house and throw the boy and his parents into Azkaban …_

* * *

><p><em>James Potter's Puppet Master<em>

… _Ministry cronies continue to chase their own tails by trying to convict Arthur Weasley of crimes every thinking person knows he is not guilty of, unless being a decent, tolerant person is now a crime, this gem is one we can all savour. The source divulges that Potter has actually participated in none of the acts attributed to him, and that they are all in fact performed by a community known as the Potter Heads, who are a group of people duped into believing that James Potter is the anti-Voldemort savior they've been waiting for._

_The real mastermind behind this scheme? None other than known enemy and secret lover of James Potter, one Severus Snape, currently potions master at Hogwarts. He has masterminded this scheme for two reasons: one, to take revenge on Potter, who spurned him in favour of the woman who would become his wife, and because of a deep-seated and insatiable jealousy over Potter's talent on the Quidditch Pitch; and two, as part of a blackmail scheme involving a Troll gang and none other than interrogator-supreme Dolores Umbridge …_

* * *

><p>I solemnly swear that the rest of the story will contain zero Daily Prophet articles. Not even a single Quibbler article shall appear, even though those are a lot of fun.<p> 


	22. The Secret Told

_Here's the chapter I said would be up like fifty bazillion years ago._

* * *

><p>Severus went to visit the Potters rather late at night, hoping that his inconvenient timing would speed things along. Lily answered the door, bleary-eyed and smiling slightly. "Evening, Sev. We weren't expecting you till tomorrow."<p>

"Well, I was never one to procrastinate," he replied humourlessly. Lily took the bags he held up at her and trudged into the kitchen. Severus didn't move from the doormat, trying to telepathically stifle any inclinations she might have of inviting him in. His attempts at mind-control failed when she called, quietly, "Come in, make yourself at home. I'm waiting up for James, anyway, might as well make an evening out of it."

Severus didn't think that he could even imagine a worse way for that invitation to have been declared to him. He felt every colour of irritation. Potter was out. He would have to stay here until he got back or seem rude. Lily was waiting for him. He would end up exploding at Potter when he returned. And Hagrid had asked him to go to The Three Broomsticks that night.

After that last he gave himself a mental shake. _What?_

"I know, Sev, he's out, you hate that, but if it makes it any better he did think you'd be coming tomorrow, so he planned all of his excursions for before and after that, in an attempt to keep you happy."

Severus shook off his shock at realizing that he had not only been planning to go with Hagrid, but that he was also apparently disappointed that now he wouldn't be going. Contemplating that new development would have to wait. "If Potter really is interested in keeping me happy he'd have the decency to get himself killed tonight so that I'd never have to see him again."

Lily joined him in the sitting room, glowering. "Sev–"

"I'm sorry," he muttered, having never felt less sorry in his life.

She crossed her arms. "No you're not."

He didn't bother arguing with her.

She sighed. "Look, I for one am glad that you're here. James went to see Remus, and –"

"He's a werewolf. Last I checked, the Dark Lord had that market covered."

"Yes, but this is Remus we're talking about," Lily said, as if that meant something that should have been obvious to him. "James promised to be careful and he said you'd never have to know, but –"

Severus rolled his eyes. "If he's going to be a fool, it's better that I know. Now I can pay attention to see if Lupin might have made any reports."

"That was exactly my thinking. I want to trust Remus, but after Peter… anyway. Now you know, and James is talking to Remus as we speak. It's done, and there's no use getting angry about it at this point. Right, Sev?" She hardened her gaze.

"Whatever."

"Sev," she complained, making the one syllable sound more like two.

"Lily," he replied, mimicking her exasperated tone, and both of them remembered the many times they had argued like this before, over little, meaningless things, when they were younger. Severus was the first to push past the déjà-vu. "You told me that you would repay me in kind if any harm came to your family, but apparently you'll sit here complacent while that – that – that –"

"'That – that – that,' who also goes as James once in a while, is taking every precaution."

"He'd still be sitting here if that were true, in this house that _I _have been protecting for him."

"I don't know why I bother, Sev. There is clearly no pleasing you. Let's talk about something else, maybe that'll–"

"That isn't true. I would be perfectly satisfied if _James_ wasn't making a compelling argument for why he deserves to meet a messy end."

Lily was silent for a while. Finally, she said, "I can't believe that after all this time – all right. Enough is enough. I can't listen to you anymore, 'Dark Lord this,' and 'Dark Lord that' – you still sound like a bloody Death Eater, and to wish for James's death–"

"I'm not wish–" Severus protested. She spoke over the rest of his words.

"Yes, you are, Sev. So that's fine. Prattle on like a Death Eater in my sitting room, but first you're going to tell me everything."

Severus gaped at her.

"_What?_"

"Everything. Why are you here, why are you helping us, _why_ does Dumbledore trust you, _why_ did he force you on us?"

Severus's mouth opened, and closed.

"Well?"

It was the night by the Fat Lady all over again. Somehow she still managed to make him feel like the scrawny kid he'd been – the difference, though, was that this time, if he told her the truth, she might actually kill him.

"Lily – I'm sorry. I don't wish Pott– James – I don't want him dead. I just want you to – you all, all of you, I just want you to be safe. I spoke out of… out of stress."

Lily frowned. "If you don't want me to expel you from my house with as much force as I can muster, you will tell me."

Severus tried to look away from her, but couldn't. "I can't." He could hear the pleading in his voice. He was younger and younger every second – a four year old, powerless, all over again.

She said nothing. Her frown deepened.

"I –"

In his desperation, his thoughts fell on the Dark Lord. If it was him Severus was facing, he would speak truth. Just enough truth to suffice, though. Not all of it. That was the key to self-perseverance.

"You were the best friend I ever had. I heard a prophecy concerning the Dark Lord and I told him all that I had heard. When I learned that he had interpreted it to mean that you had to be killed, I – I went to Dumbledore. I changed allegiances then and there. I couldn't watch you die. I _couldn't _be the reason for your death. I _couldn't_ watch you die."

The determination had gone out of her. In its place was confusion, and skepticism. "Sev," she said quietly. "We hadn't spoken in years."

"No, but, all the same. I had to protect you. Even if it meant putting up with Potter."

"And you've done that _flawlessly_," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why couldn't you have just told me this, when I first asked you?"

"You hated me. I was a Death Eater still in your eyes. And you wouldn't have believed me. You would press on, and I wouldn't have been able to give you any other answer because this is all I have for you. Then I would seem like a liar."

She shook her head. "So – you can't think of anything – there isn't anything you might say, to, I dunno… I need more than this, Sev. You need to make me understand how a childhood friendship suddenly began to matter to you about a year ago, enough to stop pursuing your one life goal that you had walked away from that friendship for in the first place?"

Those words stung. Severus had to force himself to inhale. "Time has passed. I have reflected." He inhaled again. "That… friendship," he began again, slowly, carefully, "never stopped mattering to me. And with time it became clear that I… that I had made a mistake."

She didn't quite scoff. The threat of it showed on her face even so. Severus found he couldn't say anything more, though he knew she wasn't anywhere near convinced. He let her find the next words, and hardly cared what they might be.

"Dumbledore was convinced," she said. "Did you tell him it was our ruined friendship that made you realize that being Voldemort's servant was a bad idea?"

A dull, dark pain was bubbling dangerously deep inside of him. He recognized it instantly. He had felt it over and over again, had inflicted it on himself every time he had thought about how a conversation like this might have gone, might still go, back when they were friends. She had _always_ rejected him, in all of his imaginings. If he had ever fantasized about being with her, it was only after _she _had confessed her feelings to him.

She was now, actually, in the sitting room she shared with James Potter, rejecting him. He hadn't even told her all of it, but even this small amount was enough to turn her cold.

He forced the pain down. He would lose her if he could not convince her. They would leave tonight, seek some other hiding place. Remus Lupin would likely be their Secret Keeper. It was a full moon, soon. Maybe then he'd eat them.

He took a deep breath.

"Lily, he is Albus Dumbledore. I was still a Death Eater, at least in his eyes, when we spoke. He might have killed me. He saw how desperate I was. He saw it right away and didn't ever question the validity of what I was feeling about the danger you were in. You are safe now, so you can't see – you don't know what I was like, but let me explain. Until I met you, I had no one. You must know that. I told you as much even then. You remember what my life was. You were the only person I – had."

She blinked. "I abandoned you."

He nodded slowly. Then he shrugged. "I became a Death Eater but still you were always the best friend I ever had. There had been no one else after you. I went to Dumbledore because of that. It was his decision for me to be your Secret Keeper."

He watched her, internally wincing, heart pounding harder than it ever had, even during the Dark Lord's interrogations.

Later, he would remember that she hadn't really smiled.

It was a smile, true enough, but it wasn't full of mirth. It wasn't friendly. It wasn't sarcastic. It wasn't as quick as he thought it was in the moment, it wasn't as easy. She smiled, but it just made her look sad.

She had smiled at herself, not at him, because she had started to believe him and it hurt. She smiled because she did not think she should pity herself in that moment. But he only saw the smile, and how quick it had seemed to come, and he didn't see the tears, he only saw her eyes shining, dancing.

"Well," she said, "that's broken my heart." And smiled.

She stood, intending to go make them tea, adding so quietly he almost didn't hear it, "How many times are you going to do that to me, Sev?" And then she hated herself all over again. She rushed away. She always rushed away from him when it started to hurt too much.

Severus had nowhere to run because this house belonged to someone else, and to someone else's life, and he thought, _that's broken _her _heart?_

_I broke _her _heart?_

By the time Lily returned with the tea she had resolved to make it right. She would let herself feel his pain without resenting him for it. They would be friends again. Severus, without her knowing it, had already decided that it was too late for that.

He was sitting statue-still. She handed him a teacup but he made no move to reach for it.

"Sev?" she prompted gently.

At the sound of his name his eyes slid up to meet hers. He seized the tea and moved to push it away, and Lily instinctively tried to stop him. The tea spilled on both of them, scalding. Lily gasped but Severus seemed not to feel it.

There was nothing, absolutely _nothing_, to lose.

"I love you."

Lily blinked. "What?"

Severus set his jaw and said, "I have always loved you. From the moment I first saw you, and I knew what you were, I loved you. I love you still. That's why. I wasn't lying, I haven't lied, it is all the same story, but this is – this is the full truth."

"Evanesco," she said. The hot tea vanished. The red blotches on her hand and wrist where it had spilled remained.

Severus hadn't seen her take her wand out. Moments ago he might have been wary. Now he didn't care.

"You love me," she said. "You've always loved me."

"Yes."

"You became a Death Eater."

Severus cringed, half out of guilt, and half out of annoyance. "Well, yes."

"If you've always loved me –"

"No, that isn't – DON'T –" Lily fell back a step. "Don't start telling me how my becoming a Death Eater disproves the fact of everything I feel for you. I will not relive one of the worst failings of my life."

"Sev, I'm only trying to understand." She sounded pacifying, but her eyes were hard. "The Death Eaters would see all muggle-borns persecuted or killed outright."

"I _know_ that –"

"I know you know. That's why I'm asking –"

"When I was a student the Death Eaters were, to me, at least, the only chance available of being – of being strong."

"Strong?"

"Yes, strong. I was stupid. But I thought that, to you, I always looked like the victim, and I thought – if I could be a Death Eater I wouldn't be a victim anymore, and where you were concerned – well, I thought I could also prove to you that I wasn't always a victim, that I could –"

"Sev, that's ridiculous."

"I know it is! I don't need you to tell me that it is. I know already."

"What are you really telling me, here? I hope you're not blaming me for your becoming a Death Eater because I seem to remember telling you that –"

"I'm not blaming you for anything."

"No? It seems to me that everything you've done, joining Voldemort, betraying him, joining Dumbledore, and being our Secret Keeper can be tied back to me."

"It was because of how _I _felt about you. I'm not the foolish teenager I was. I can take responsibility for my own actions."

"It sounds to me like you're giving me excuses, but if you think that I'm going to fall to pieces at the notion that you became a Death Eater so that I would think you could be strong –"

"I am not trying to seduce you," he said, aghast. "I'm telling you the truth. I can go on, if you'd like, because there's plenty more and if you hear it and still think I'd be mad enough to think you'd find any of this attractive, then you're not nearly as smart as I always thought you were."

"Go on, then," she said, crossing her arms and glaring down at him.

Before he did, he stood, tired of looking up at her. "I relayed the prophecy Trelawney made about a child that would destroy the Dark Lord. He decided that it meant your son, and he decided he would kill all of you. I begged him to spare you – he could kill Potter and the boy, but he could spare you, why not, what did you have to do with it?

"What were you hoping to accomplish by that?" Lily asked stonily.

"Nothing more or less than saving your life."

Lily scoffed. It was clear, this time. "What would that have meant to me, Sev? A life without my husband and my _child? _Oh, but I forgot. The real question is what that would have meant to you – I'd be alive and there'd be nothing to stop me from falling into your arms."

"If I'd asked the Dark Lord to spare all of you – I can't even imagine what he would have said or done. I figured there was a chance that if he could kill his real target, and the pureblood father too, then why would he also need to kill you? Perhaps some small, selfish part of me thought that without Potter there'd be nothing left between us, but –"

"Well you were almost right about that. No matter _what_, there will be _nothing_ between us."

Severus was silent for a moment, positively shaking with rage. "It was the Dark Lord," he said finally, almost calmly, "who thought your life was something to haggle over. I was half-insane. I went to Dumbledore, even though the Dark Lord said he might spare you if he was feeling merciful. That wasn't good enough."

"And Dumbledore hid us. And made _you_ our Secret Keeper."

Severus said nothing. They stood only a few feet apart but it seemed that an entire lifetime of betrayal and pain lay between them. Eventually, Lily spoke.

"I still don't –" she began slowly massaging her forehead with one hand, "I still don't understand. What you're saying doesn't fit with the choices you've made. I wonder if it's just your lack of experience. If you'd met more people, had more friends at school, better ones than those creeps you ran around with, you might've…"

Severus didn't answer her, he just seethed.

"I mean… are you _sure_ you love me?"

Severus blinked. "_What?"_

Lily let go of her head and glared at him. "Well, are you _sure _that you love me, or am I maybe just some unattainable ideal you've built up in your mind so that you don't have to actually try at life?"

He surveyed her, mouth slightly ajar. "You – you're not taking me seriously." He laughed, a quick burst, high and slightly off. "Never… I never considered that I'd have to contend with you not even believing me."

"Don't patronize me, Sev. It's not that I don't believe you. I mean, you clearly believe that you love me, but maybe you've just exaggerated – I mean, you said yourself that I was the best friend you'd ever had, so maybe you just…"

She trailed off, plainly waiting for him to join her in this maddening trot through his exaggerated and romanticized seven years' worth of agony. He replied, his voice dripping with hostile sarcasm, "All right. I won't patronize you, Lily."

She threw her hands in the air. "Look, forgive me for not being able to penetrate the inner workings of your clever little mind. If you've loved me all these years – well, I won't insult you by asking why you never said anything. The man I married tried to show his feelings for me by pulling my pig tails and bullying me best friend. But I simply cannot understand why you _chose_ to pursue becoming a Death Eater when I told you that we couldn't be friends if that's the path you were going to choose."

"No. No. You never said anything like that. You said you'd had enough and we couldn't be friends anymore, because clearly we'd chosen different paths already."

Lily sighed. "I don't remember the exact wording. I was hurt, and angry, but surely you didn't think that there was nothing at all that you could've done to change my mind. If you'd just stopped being –"

"If," Severus said, staring at her so intently she took the smallest of steps backwards, "you'd said that, if I thought there was even the slightest chance you'd take me back, then _of course –"_

"I'm not so sure." She folded her arms across her chest again. "I think – look, if you loved me, then, then you loved the idea of being a Death Eater so much more."

Severus's glare was icy. "We'll never know, though, will we? Because you never asked me to choose."

"Not in so many words, but I wanted you to choose our friendship. I didn't want to insult you by hanging it on an ultimatum."

"I'm glad that you have your principles, Lily, but you went ahead and hung it on an ultimatum that only _you_ were aware of."

Neither of them spoke again. Severus took the smallest of pleasures in having had the last word, but the things Lily had just said had turned his blood cold. If it was true, if she had never completely abandoned him, he was an even bigger failure than he'd ever had the capacity to admit, and if she had silently tested him and watched him give up, in complete ignorance of what she wanted, well, that was a different kind of cruelty.

Lily, for her part, knew he had some points. She still thought he had preferred his creepy, hateful friends over her, and she still thought he clung to his feelings for her out of fear more than out of love. She was so angry with him that she wanted to scream until he left, but she couldn't find enough air in her lungs to do her fury justice. And Harry was, still, miraculously, as their voices had been raised many times, asleep.

Just a few moments later, and well before either of them might have worsened present circumstances, James arrived at home. He thought it was just Lily and Harry, so he eased off the invisibility cloak as silently as he could and stuffed his face with the last pumpkin pasty he'd bought (he'd meant to give it to Lily but his willpower had vanished – he was still exhilarated and it had made him ravenous). He crept into the sitting room and found Lily and Severus glaring at each other. Severus had two angry purple blotches covering the majority of his face and Lily was a brilliant, furious shade of red.

They had been arguing, he surmised. And in the seconds he had before they both would notice him on their own, he puzzled it out. Jumbled images and words came to mind – him, they were arguing about him being out – but Lily would have been composed, and Snape didn't care _that_ much about it. It was an argument between them, something he wasn't privy to, and they –

Immediately, he understood.

"Evening?" he said hesitantly, and (to his credit, as he was an incurable jokester) as sensitively as he could manage.

Both of them started and turned their glares on him. A second later Severus had stormed out of the house. He slammed the door so hard behind him that a framed picture in the hallway of James's parents fell and the glass shattered. Harry squalled half-heartedly from upstairs. Lily and James both looked up at the ceiling as though they could see through it and into their son's crib. Harry fell silent after half a minute.

"How was Remus?" Lily asked.

"He's wonderful. Let's talk about that and… and other things, after you've had a night out." With a flick of his wand the cloak floated into her arms.

Lily looked at him for a long time. "I don't need –"

"You do. We'll talk when you get back."

"It's the dead of night. Where am I supposed to go?" She was already pulling the cloak on.

"Anywhere. Go bug your sister again. Visit Dumbledore, he'll be awake. Pacing, probably, bloody pacer. Your parents. Sirius is at the Leaky Cauldron. Have a butterbeer. Have a firewhisky. Have forty. Just go, and don't come back until you're ready."

Lily allowed herself a small smile. "You're a nut." She kissed him on the cheek and left.

Viven leapt into James's lap a little while after she'd gone. They looked quizzically at each other for a while. "Oh, Viv," he said, scratching her ears. "To have your life."


	23. Fabe or Abe or Something

Severus had found the nearest fireplace and had taken it straight back to his office. He had thought, briefly, of going to his bedroom instead, of just giving up for the day or the week or the year, but almost as soon as the thought appeared he'd rejected it. He stood in his office and looked at his desk, at the shelves around it, at a mountain of pointless papers in need of grading and his own notes on the upcoming exams that he'd have to prepare, and realized that choosing his office over his bedroom was hardly any better.

Why had he come back here?

Feeling foolish and impossibly angry at everything and everyone, he tossed Floo powder into the flames, stepped in, and spat, "Spinner's End."

And that was even worse.

There was a mirror in the bathroom. He looked at himself. His reflection looked back, disgusted.

He felt sick, trapped, desperate. He needed to not be alone with his thoughts, but he didn't know how to do anything else. He yearned to turn around and see Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus, summoning him for a meeting, or even to feel his Dark Mark burning. He needed something else to think about.

Apparently he was not needed that night anywhere at all, and that was how he had ended up at the Three Broomsticks with Hagrid, roaring drunk.

At some point they had moved on to the Hog's Head, probably because it was open later. And when Severus woke up the next day in delicious agony, a small part of him which he tried to ignore suspected that at some point between drinks that were half dust and half alcohol (filthy place, that bar, really, and it was a wonder Dumbledore ever set foot in there) he had confessed everything to Hagrid and their new best friend the barman. Hagrid had told him that the barman's name was Fabe or Abe or something, and that he was their best friend. Severus had agreed whole-heartedly. Hagrid had started pouring out his heart and then… well. And Severus couldn't now be sure that the bar had been empty apart from them… but he supposed that it must have been. It was the Hog's Head, after all, and at some point Fabe or Abe or something had locked them all in.

When he was feeling better, well enough to have to actually deal with all of his thoughts, he selected that worry first from the ever-growing pile and picked it apart. He found he didn't care about his suspected indiscretion the way Dumbledore might have worried about it. If this jeopardized his safety, he had found to his utter lack of surprise, that was all well and good. And he didn't really see how it could make things worse for him anyway. The Dark Lord already knew all that. He had confessed that he'd confessed to her, but he didn't tell them that it had happened only a few hours ago. No, he wouldn't be killed over this. What was actually problematic about the situation was that now somebody other than Dumbledore—

But now Lily knew too.

That fact crushed him like a falling anvil would have. If Lily knew, did he really care that Hagrid and their new best friend Fabe or Abe or something knew too?

Logically he'd now either have to follow that thought into examining how he felt about his confession to Lily the previous evening, or he could investigate and determine just how much he had told Hagrid.

* * *

><p>Hagrid had baked him a cake.<p>

Severus glared at it while the huge groundskeeper brewed a pot of tea. "So… I suppose you will have surmised this much, but… if you could keep this to… well, to yourself… that would be… nice." Severus's glare deepened, but the cake did not quail before it.

"O' course, Professor, o' course."

* * *

><p>Lily had not gotten roaring drunk.<p>

She had intended to. She found Sirius at the Leaky Cauldron right where James said he would be. He was with a large group of witches and wizards slightly older than they were. One woman had engaged him in conversation and had him more or less to herself by the looks of things, and she seemed, even from across the dim pub, rather pleased with herself. Lily considered turning around and leaving, but then he saw her.

"Nancy!" he just about bellowed. "Good on you, mate! C'mere, there's a chair free!"

She sighed inwardly, smiled outwardly, and went over to sit next to him. "Nancy" was not their agreed name for her, but when she thought about what her polyjuice-altered face looked like, she supposed Nancy was believable enough. More believable than Formidabella, anyway, which was what James had wanted to call her. He'd wanted her to be Formidabella and him to be Dr. Chance Persuvius, and she had refused, so now she was a simple Anne and he was Dr. Chance Persuvius. Reflecting on this, it didn't really bother her that Sirius had either forgotten or had just decided to rechristen her as Nancy.

She sat, and smoothed out her muggle blouse where it fell over her legs, and self-consciously looked over at her reflection in a dusty portrait on the wall next to her. She was a small, freckly, mousy brunette. One glimpse and she looked like a women you could frighten away with a well-timed throat clearing, but if you looked longer, under normal circumstances, Lily's calm and confidence shone through.

She didn't feel either in that moment—she'd never had to entertain Sirius alone, and she had always suspected that he didn't like her much, but put up with her for James's sake. Still, she, like almost every other girl in their year (and every other year as well) had lived through having a crush on the completely unmovable and incomprehensible thing that was Sirius Black. Hers had only lasted about a day, thankfully. It had happened right after he once bowed deeply before her, and then opened the door for her when they'd crashed into each other in the hall when they both late for Charms. At the end of that day she went back to being annoyed and slightly amused by him. Eventually it turned into being amused and slightly annoyed, and eventually, she supposed, she might actually like him completely.

Sirius bought her a firewhisky, and she immediately started drinking it, determined to get rid of her cares both about what she'd just listened to and also now about having to be Sirius's drinking partner.

"Nancy, have you met Ingrid? She was a year ahead of us in Ravenclaw," he said, sounding incredibly uninterested. "It is Ingrid, isn't it?"

Lily heard the witch answer in the negative, and vaguely listened to him guessing at a few other names, and by the time he declared that he had given up, half of Lily's drink was gone. By the time he'd bought her a third, the other witch had left, looking furious and more than a little confused. Lily felt slightly bad for her, but then, she was never going to get far with Sirius regardless of whether Lily was there or not.

But when she noticed that the witch was casting nosy and slightly accusatory glances her way, she started to feel less badly for the stranger and just a little pleased with herself in turn. She couldn't help it—when she'd had her crush she'd daydreamed something like this—drinking with Sirius, being the sole focus of his attention. It had been so long ago, and she had never been like almost all of her friends who had all declared they'd loved him from their first Hogwarts feast, but she supposed that there was still something a little triumphant in her eyes when she returned the witch's glance. The man was ridiculously beautiful, after all, and at the moment he was laughing at something _she'd_ said.

She sipped the fourth firewhisky slowly. The warmth from the first three, not savoured carefully, was starting to become irritating. She sighed inwardly again, outwardly laughing like a loon while Sirius ranted on, entertainingly, even drunk as he was, about the Ministry. What was she doing? What she needed was some time to think, on her own.

She stayed until they all left, though, which was when the pub closed. She felt depressingly sober, and everyone else had managed to reach at least the tipsy stage. The group all tumbled out giggling onto a not-yet-deserted London street, and Lily sighed outwardly this time.

Sirius glanced over at her. "Ahh, you don't have to go yet, y'know, Nance. You should come with us," he said, gesturing at the rest of the group, who were all now shouting at each other about Quidditch. "One of these buggers has a very grimy flat nearby."

"That sounds spectacular," she said, grinning. "But I really should go."

Sirius argued, shouted, pouted, and finally accepted her declining with grace. "All my love to you and yours," he said, pecking her on the cheek. "Get home safe!"

She watched them go, amused and a little annoyed while Sirius (who was now arm-in-arm with Imelda, which was in fact the witch's actual name, as Lily had made a point to find out) called back to her about how she would be missing out. Then he started on about how she should get her good friend Prongs to maybe go. He was bellowing the address at her over and over again, asking her to tell Prongs, when she finally chuckled one last time and disapparated.

4 Privet Drive. It occurred to Lily that it was far too late at night and far too early in the morning for her to actually knock on the door if she didn't want Petunia to strangle her. That suited her fine—she needed the time alone.

She sat on the porch next to the impeccable garden and sighed. She pulled the invisibility cloak out of her purse and stared at it, shining like a liquid in the starlight. _There will be so much to face._

First, she'd have to go home eventually, and she'd have to tell it all to James. She suspected that he would deal with it well, at least in front of her, but James could at times be a tad single-minded. If he didn't realize that this was her problem to fume over and not his, he might make everything harder in the end.

After that one disastrous dinner they'd had with the occupants of the house sitting behind her in silent disapproval, she thought that he had learned something. When he had actually noticed how much Petunia's rejection had bothered her, and that James had been not in the slightest bit supportive, and had not even pretended to make an attempt at getting along with Vernon, and that all of that had made it so much worse, he had apologized sincerely, and since then—well. He'd never really had a chance to screw up like that since then, she supposed.

Ultimately, she thought, James's reaction wasn't her biggest concern. They had been planning to talk to Severus about what was to come, and that conversation, they both thought, was going to be difficult. Now it would probably be impossible. If Severus refused to talk to them or see them again, she supposed Dumbledore would take his place, and that brought its own concerns. If Dumbledore disagreed with their plans, then they might be stuck in Godric's Hollow forever.

But not even the thought of raising Harry like hermits for years while the Ministry tracked down Voldemort (and possibly even Harry) could draw her gloomiest thoughts away from the memories of what Severus had said earlier that night.

With another sigh she looked out at the horizon behind the endless subdivision. There was no sunrise in sight. She wouldn't be able to distract herself with Petunia, so she might as well have it out with herself.

She hated him for what he'd told her. She held on to the hatred desperately, looking to it to make her feel better. Whatever else he said or thought or felt or believed, he had made a terrible mistake and now her entire family was paying for it. Even Petunia—hell, even Vernon, the muggle to end all muggles, was now stuck in his house indefinitely because of choices some young wizard he'd never met had made.

What was worse was that he didn't seem the slightest bit remorseful. He might have been horrified that he'd put her in danger, but now that she was locked away safe from Voldemort it didn't seem to occur to him that—

But that wasn't fair.

That was the problem. She didn't want to have to be fair to Severus, at least not yet, but she was old enough now to know that the hatred was pointless and that it would fade in time.

If he loved her, there was nothing either of them could do about that. And he had made mistakes in the past, and there was nothing that either of them could do about that now except try to minimize the damage, and they had both been doing so for some time before he'd confessed to her.

Thinking back on their childhoods, she supposed it hadn't been fair of her to accuse him of not really being in love with her. Surely he would know his own feelings better than she would, considering also that she'd only just been informed of them. She even had to admit that she had thought that it could have been true back then, only once or twice, but the memories were undeniable. She had even thought, at least once, that if things developed, then maybe….

Of course, things _had_ developed. He had chosen the dark arts over her. He'd said that if he knew that in that moment what he was doing really was making that choice, he'd have chosen differently, but she _fiercely _disagreed, and she didn't think that was going to change.

Severus was a smart man. He'd been a smart boy. He knew then, and he knew now, that his life as a Death Eater and his friendship with her were incompatible. He had just never wanted to face it. And then she'd forced him to, and he had chosen Voldemort.

There was another point that they'd disagreed about, and she was sure that she'd had it right. She was positive that he had stayed attached to her as strongly as he had for so long because she was unattainable, and he didn't have to then worry about being rejected or abandoned ever again, having lived through that with everyone from whom he'd ever sought love.

It made her sad. It made her hope that she was wrong, but then, if she _was_ wrong, he'd spend the rest of his life convinced that he could never be happy because she'd gone and married James Potter. And she had not married James Potter to spite Severus Snape. She'd married him for her own reasons, not the least of which was that she was in love with him, and she knew that they would make each other happy. To have someone, especially someone she had such a high regard for (still, she found, annoyingly) as Severus, think about that choice she and James had made as some sort of universe-altering atrocity was an infuriating prospect for her.

It wasn't his fault… unless she was right. Maybe all she wanted was to be blameless in this situation.

Ultimately, though… wasn't she? She'd given him a chance. She'd loved him. She loved him still. Maybe it wasn't the way he wanted her to, but if he hadn't joined Voldemort it might have become that. It had been _his_ choice.

She sighed again, frustrated, and sank back into the hatred that she could already feel ebbing away. It was easier for now, and by the time she saw him again, if she ever _did_ see him again, anyway, she would have made progress. They could discuss things constructively, then, if he wanted to.

She didn't notice the sun coming up because she was still fuming hours later. Instead, she leapt up with a yelp when Vernon threw open the door right into her back.

"Oh, er, sorry," he said, sounding more surprised and annoyed than sorry, but she supposed it would do.

She shook off her shock and silently thanked the time limit on polyjuice, looking at his large red face. He'd have probably shot her by now if she had still looked like Anne or Nancy or whoever. "No, really, _I'm_ sorry, Vernon. Is Petunia up? I just wanted to talk to her quickly."

"Erhmmm," he said, dragging out the nonsense syllable much longer than necessary. The one thing Lily liked about her brother-in-law was that he seemed to know what would bother Petunia and he did what he could to lessen those bothers. The thing was, though, he wasn't quite brave enough to send Lily packing.

"Petunia, dear, your, er, your sister, well, she's here to see you."

"Bloody—" was the irritated response from within.

"Er, come in, won't you?" Vernon said.

"It won't take a minute, Tuney, I just wanted to tell you—we've set a date for our departure, finally," she called as she stepped over the threshold, mentally preparing herself to be accused of all sorts of malicious inconveniencing.


	24. The Headmaster and the Dark Lord

"I see."

He sat before Severus like he had on so many occasions over the past year. His head was slightly bowed, his fingertips pressed together under his long nose, and his eyes on Severus's own. His face was unreadable, his gaze piercing, and there was really nothing about the Headmaster's face or posture or gaze to suggest anything other than intense focus, but Severus was convinced that the man was disappointed.

It must have hung invisible in the air between them, because Dumbledore's tone, as he answered Severus's hesitant but well-thought out speech in short sentences, had been nothing if not understanding.

Severus surprised himself by sighing as though he shared the Headmaster's feelings. But he was resolved, and he believed that he had been resolved even before the confession had slipped from his mouth.

It was over.

He couldn't go back to the Potters. Even though Dumbledore had asked him to, had told him more than once over the past week that he was stronger than he believed himself to be, that he was brave enough to face her. Even though Dumbledore had, earlier this evening, tried to hand him a letter Lily had sent him that morning, asking that Severus might come to them.

He knew that his refusal to go had nothing to do with cowardice. She may have forgiven him, but her forgiveness meant nothing to him, not anymore.

"I wish to remain as Potions Master, and to continue to be your eyes into the Dark Lord's inner circle. I believe I can do a lot of good still, in these ways."

"Certainly. I am grateful for it."

"Are you?" Severus asked.

"Of course I am, Severus."

Severus held the piercing gaze for a moment, and then he left.

* * *

><p>Once he had given up the Potters as his charge, Severus's life had become a lot quieter. The school year ended, he moved back to Spinner's End for the summer, and had passed the time doing a lot of reading. At the beginning he had waited for Dumbledore's patronus to summon him away, but it hadn't appeared.<p>

Dumbledore's silence didn't surprise him, but his left arm hadn't burned in more than a month.

It had started to worry him, and he had pushed the worry away for a time, but finally, as the days continued to pass, the silence got louder, and Severus began to jump at shadows. He would catch himself passing sleepless nights staring at the dark mark as though trying to convince himself that it was still there.

It got bad enough that he went down to the Three Broomsticks on a stifling Saturday night to spend time with Hagrid.

Hagrid told him that Dumbledore hadn't been at Hogwarts at all for a long time, which assuaged some of Severus's worry, but it did nothing about his growing fear of the Dark Lord.

He began to try to justify the Dark Lord's silence. He began to wonder if somehow the Dark Lord had found him out. Perhaps he had switched the Potters as he had switched the Longbottoms—but that was ridiculous. The last time Severus had seen Lily, it had most definitely been her. But the Dark Lord could have gotten to them after that visit, after he'd given them over to Dumbledore—

But Dumbledore was their Secret Keeper now. And surely if Dumbledore started talking to Lily and James and they were actually Crabbe and Goyle, the Headmaster would be able to figure it out.

Perhaps, though, the Dark Lord was biding his time. Perhaps he waited and watched, knowing that he was hunted, knowing that his empire was crumbling around him, and knowing that Severus was responsible for quite the bulk of it. If that was the case, Severus had to be prepared.

He began wishing that the school year would come faster, feeling a lot like the little boy waiting with very little patience for September to come in this very house. But this time it wasn't just about escaping the house. The house hadn't bothered him at all for years, which likely was because of the absence of his parents. He wanted to talk to Dumbledore. He had to know that Lily was safe. He supposed that he could go to her—she had asked him to, after all, and then he could know that she was safe, but if his suspicions were correct the Dark Lord could be following him. If he was, Severus would lead him to her.

It was maddening. Not having the endless problems caused by James Potter to solve was frustrating. Not having to force small talk in their kitchen was now excruciating, far worse than the actual torture of forcing small talk had been to begin with. Not being able to talk it all over with the Headmaster was unbearable.

He found, after time had passed, that he wanted to talk about it, about all of it. Not to Lily. Not yet, anyway, and he still couldn't see a time in the future in which he would want to talk about it with her, but he now wanted, and perhaps even needed to talk to Dumbledore.

And if he could just sit in the Headmaster's office and talk endlessly, he wouldn't have to worry that the Dark Lord hid like the blackest of spiders somewhere in the darkness of his childhood home.

The day that the mark finally burned was the same day that Severus had started to pack. It was still July, but he didn't care. He had an office and a bed at Hogwarts and he was going there. He'd be able to sleep there, which would be a nice change. And when Dumbledore came back he could talk to him.

He was stuffing a seemingly endless pile of black clothing into a case when it burned. He almost shrieked, but he was far more afraid of the truth he now discovered: he was dreading his next encounter with the Dark Lord far more than he'd allowed himself to admit.

Thoughts raced. He could ignore the mark. He could go straight to Hogwarts and summon Dumbledore to protect him. He couldn't risk it if the Dark Lord knew all, he'd be killed. He'd be tortured first, and then killed. Perhaps he'd be forced to sell out Lily. He had to run.

But a second later he was turning to apparate. He was being foolish. He would face the Dark Lord, and everything the Dark Lord had to throw at him.

* * *

><p>"Snape. You're to see him alone."<p>

That was Avery, if he knew their voices as well as he imagined he did. The man gestured, a small, irritable jerk, towards the door behind him, as though Severus hadn't immediately leapt to attention simply because he didn't know where he might locate the Dark Lord.

Behind Avery, Regulus Black (obvious by the arrogant and fussy way he moved—today, he wore a mask. An ill omen, at least as far as Severus could divine) and Lucius Malfoy swept from the dining hall in which the Dark Lord now waited for Severus. Neither said a word to him as he passed them. Neither even acknowledged his existence. They silently joined the others, who would now wait for the Dark Lord to finish with Severus. As Severus turned to shut the door behind him, he watched Lucius seize a glass of something from Dobby and muttered something to Regulus, who nodded. Severus took the time before the door closed to wonder again at the fact that the meetings were still apparently at the Malfoy manor, and that Lucius still apparently had the ear of the Dark Lord, even though it was he, if you believed the Prophet, who was the Ministry's source.

The door shut much more loudly than he'd expected; a deep, hollow sound that filled the enormous dining room.

Severus looked up at the Dark Lord, who sat at the far end of the hall as though he sat on a throne.

"Severus," he said quietly. "Approach me."

Severus did. What choice did he have?

When he stood only a few feet from the Dark Lord, he stopped, and waited. "Come closer," the Dark Lord said, now speaking in barely a whisper. He gestured in an almost fatherly way, his thin pale hands looking much more like spiders than they ever had before.

Severus found himself crouching in the spot normally occupied by Regulus. The Dark Lord looked up at him. "They are all betrayers," he hissed. It was a quiet pronunciation but the venom in it almost made Severus jump back. "Every one of them."

Severus was silent a moment, and then asked, "Who, my lord?"

"All of them, Severus. All."

He didn't seem to want to elaborate, so Severus waited. He counted the seconds, wondering which one might be his last.

"But you, Severus," the Dark Lord began again, still in a hissing whisper, sounding like the most ancient of snakes, "you are a man of different metal."

"I don't know what you mean," Severus said quietly.

"I have underestimated you, Severus. I thought you were like the rest of them. But you—more than any of the others, _you_, Severus, are the most like me."

This was beginning to scare him. He had never been easy in the Dark Lord's presence, but he had never felt so much like breaking into the fastest run he could manage in his entire life.

"I am… honoured… that you should think of me like this."

"Yes. You are like me, do not be modest. The others want to show everyone how big they are, when they are in reality, no matter how well they may have served me at times, very small. But you were always small. What you wanted was to grow. And you worked to grow. I have seen this, Severus. I am impressed. The others expected me to praise them, to tell them how powerful they were, but you wanted to become powerful before I would praise you. You have set yourself apart."

Severus waited.

"Your father was a muggle?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Yes. I thought so. I believe you told me once. A nasty muggle, as muggles come, I think."

"Yes, my lord. He was."

"These lies that they print in the papers… they say _my_ father was a muggle. That my mother was a squib. You, more than any of them—Lucius, with his peacocks outside, and two pureblood parents, wealthy, powerful, never a doubt in anyone's mind that he would come to greatness—_he _is not like us. _He_ is a disappointment."

Severus's curiosity got the better of him, and as he spoke the words, for some reason, he thought of the slavering of a werewolf. "Did he not—wasn't Lucius the one who told them—"

"LIES!" the Dark Lord shrieked. "THEY ARE LIES, ALL OF THEM!"

This time, Severus did jump back, but he stopped himself from backing away further.

The Dark Lord's fury seemed to melt away, deeper into his pale face. "He indulges them, his Ministry friends. That is all. Crouch uses his name to give his pathetic lies credence, but Lucius is still mine. He is still mine, isn't he, Severus? None of my Death Eaters would _dare_ betray me."

Severus stared. 'I – I'm sure he is still loyal to you, my lord."

The Dark Lord threw his head back and laughed, high, cold, and inhuman. "I have underestimated you, Severus," he said, a cold smile on his face. "A loyal servant. The most loyal servant I have."

The Dark Lord gazed at him for a long time, which was something he had never done before. Severus was reminded of Dumbledore. If the Dark Lord had half of the perceptive abilities of the Headmaster, Severus was finished. He made himself stand still under that gaze.

"Send them all in."

Severus blinked behind the mask. "My – my lord?"

"It is time for the meeting to begin. I have said what I wanted to say to you, Severus. Remember what I have said. Remember it well."

"I will, my lord."

He strode to the door, his footsteps echoing dully. He waited for the green flash, but it didn't come.

"The meeting will begin," he said to the silent sea of Death Eater masks looking back at him.

They flooded in, none of them talking.

When they had taken their places and stood waiting before him, the Dark Lord spoke. "My loyal Death Eaters. It has been too long since last I called upon you. We have not been gathered together as a full group for some time. Some of our number, of course, cannot be here, and will never return. They have died in service to me, and they will be remembered."

He stood, and walked among them, gazing at each masked face as he passed. When he came to Severus, he paused longer than he had with the others, and nodded to him. He moved on. He turned and swept back to his place before them.

"I have been betrayed."

The silence only grew louder.

He gazed at them, and spoke quietly. "The faith of my Death Eaters dwindles, because the faithless take the lies they read in filth papers to be truth. The loyalty of my Death Eaters has dissolved. You have failed me, all of you."

None of the assembled protested his words.

The Dark Lord gazed around at them all in turn, as if waiting for someone to speak, to do just that, to assure him that the Death Eaters were still loyal. After all of this time, they still put their faith in him. But no one spoke.

"Very well. I cannot force you to have faith in me. I cannot force you to be loyal. I can simply ask these things of you and hope that you find them in yourselves." He turned away from them. "But since you have not given me your faith, since you have not given me your loyalty, I will have to take what I can take from you."

Severus knew, even before the Dark Lord had finished the last sentence, that something was terribly wrong. Someone was going to die, that was sure enough, that he had known from the beginning. He was beginning to doubt that it would be him, and he was beginning to doubt that it would only be one person, but it didn't matter. That wasn't what was prickling his skin and quickening his pulse.

As the Dark Lord was facing away from them, lovingly fingering his yew wand, letting his last words hang in the silence before finalizing his intentions for them, the Death Eaters moved as one.

Their masks came off, and Severus knew that it was over.

"I will have to take your lives. I regret this. Some of you have been faithful, some of you have been loyal, but those—"

He turned, and he _screamed_.

There were a few, like Severus, who were still masked. Those few stood in a daze, because the rest of the Death Eaters were armed and ready, standing and facing their master with grim determination, and every one of them bore the face of James Potter.

Severus turned, and before the Dark Lord had finished screaming, and as the room erupted in brilliant and impossible flashes of light, he fled.

* * *

><p>Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!<p> 


	25. Disillusionment

"In summation, what exactly do we now know?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Not much," Severus answered. "Not without being able to trust Lucius and Regulus implicitly." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at the Headmaster.

"Correct," Dumbledore replied, and continued on, apparently not interested in taking the bait. "But we do know some things. First, they have a body."

"Yes."

The two men surveyed each other.

Severus was the one to break the silence. "Whether it is the Dark Lord's body, however..."

"We cannot know."

"We can't?" Severus was surprised.

"We know only that the Ministry is vigorously assuring us all that it is indeed Voldemort's body."

"But couldn't you..."

"Yes?"

"Well... I don't know."

"I don't suppose, then. In any case, we also know that Lucius Malfoy and Regulus Black have both testified before the Wizengamot that they saw the Dark Lord killed. They have made plenty of public statements along the same lines. What is most important here is that the two of them, more than any of the others, need their statements to be true. If it turns out to be a fabrication, and if Voldemort turns out to be alive, and if he returns, that would leave both of them in a very awkward position indeed."

"Right, but - "

"Lucius is likely to say anything that makes life easier for him; however, it is not too much of a stretch to assume that he is also likely to say, without thinking too hard, something now that will make life very difficult for him later. Overall, not a very trustworthy source."

"Right, but - "

"Thirdly, we have - "

"Ugh!"

"I beg your pardon?" the Headmaster said politely, reaching for his teacup.

Severs glared at him, and finally snapped, "Nothing."

"Are you quite certain there's nothing you'd like to say to me before we continue?"

"Not anything that you don't already bloody know, which makes me feel like a bloody child. But fine, I'll indulge you - I know that you are holding back knowledge from me. I know you know more about what Regulus knows than you're admitting to know!"

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Boldly put. And yes, I do know a little bit more about what Regulus has seen than what he actually testified -"

Severus scoffed again.

"But what we are trying to decipher right now is what the average witch or wizard truly knows about this matter."

"Right, because what the average witch or wizard might know or not know is vitally more important than what you, who probably knows more than anyone about this or any matter, actually knows."

"I agree," Dumbledore said sincerely, ignoring Severus' pointed sarcasm. Severus took an angry gulp of tea against the retort that he was thinking of. Dumbledore relented even without hearing it. "What the average witch or wizard knows will dictate the climate of the culture for some years to come - that is, until further knowledge is known. Now you have me doing it."

Severus glared at him. "Well, go on then, if you must."

"There is also the matter of the wand. There is no doubt about that one. Yew and phoenix feather, thirteen inches, most cherished and prized wand of Tom Marvolo Riddle. It was examined by Ollivander himself. And that is perhaps the most convincing piece of evidence produced. For if Voldemort is alive he does not have his wand, and therefore cannot be overly dangerous at present.

"Assuming he doesn't just - but, wait, hold on a minute. So he might? So you think he might? But how can -"

"But the wand isn't what mattered to you Severus," Dumbledore spoke over him. "What made up your mind to even give the slightest credence to the reports of his death was -"

"That anyone survived. Especially Malfoy and Black."

"Well, yes, at first there was that. But there were other explanations to account for the survivors. Voldemort was prone to fits of rage during which reason and logic abandoned him completely, but, desiring longevity, he might have fled simply to save his life."

"That was my second thought."

"And we have arrived at what you feel to be the best proof of Voldemort's death: your left forearm."

Severus blinked at the Headmaster, and then slowly shook his head. "It was Lucius Malfoy's left forearm, actually. I thought I was hallucinating the first time I realized that my Dark Mark had gone. But then I saw a picture of Malfoy waving in the Prophet, and his mark wasn't there either."

"You can think of no other explanation for the mark's disappearance?"

"I came to you, expecting that you might be able to succeed where I failed."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid my explanation will not be much help or comfort to you, Severus."

"Believe it or not, I was expecting you'd say exactly that."

"I believe it. I won't keep you in suspense any longer, Severus. I will tell you what I know of Voldemort's apparent passing. But please allow me to hold back certain details that are not necessary for your immediate understanding."

"Again, completely expecting that." Severus took a sip from his magenta tea cup, and leaned back, peering expectantly at the Headmaster.

"On the night that you were last summoned into his presence, and by the hands of those he considered to be his loyal servants, Lord Voldemort was killed."

Severus nearly choked. "I - what?"

"The Death Eaters - at least, those Lucius and Regulus trusted - took a dose of polyjuice potion before entering the room. They became that person that Voldemort had grown to hate and fear most: the pureblood father of his infant enemy; the man who had become the rallying cry of those resisting him. James Potter was the thorn in his side for the months in which he could not find him, thanks to you. They attacked him, he attacked them, he killed many of them, but some survived, including two of the ringleaders, and eventually, he was killed."

"But - "

"But, Severus, he did not die."

Severus stared at Dumbledore, shocked in his bones. He made to stand, though he didn't have any sort of clue as to where he might go - surely wherever Dumbledore was would be safest but - Lily - he must go somewhere, do something -

"Then, where is he?"

"I do not know."

"And where did the Dark Mark go?"

"Make no mistake, Severus, being killed was not entirely without consequence for Voldemort. He is, as far as I can assume, without the use of a body. And his powers will have gone as well, which explains the wand, and the mark, but not the corpse the Ministry is so proud of. But that corpse could have been anyone, really. Very few actually saw it. I certainly have not."

Severus leaned back in the chair again, taking deep, calming breaths. "I confess I understand pretty much nothing of what you're telling me, Headmaster."

"Simply put, Voldemort found a sort of dark magic that would keep him alive, even after being killed, probably while he was still a student at Hogwarts. He made use of it, and consequently survived the Death Eaters' attack which should have killed him, powerful though he was."

"What - the blood of pureblood infants?" Severus asked incredulously.

Dumbledore's frown darkened. "No, not the blood of pureblood infants. The magic is not anything very much more wholesome than infant blood, though. I can also assure you that if infant blood was indeed the way to achieve immortality Voldemort most definitely would have seized the chance. In any case, a mutual friend of ours guessed at his tactics and began to... undermine... Voldemort's efforts. If we'd had more time he might have been finished for good. Voldemort then is weakened, and currently no threat to us, but it is almost certain that he will in time find some way to return. All we can hope for is that by the time he does, our work will be finished, and we will be ready for him."

Severus thought about this for a moment. "So if it wasn't infant blood, what exactly -"

"And that is one of the details that I'd prefer to keep from you."

"Naturally," Severus muttered, annoyed.

"To be fair to myself, I have already divulged far more about it than I ever meant to. The rest is irrelevant, at least where you are concerned."

"But now that he's gone - at least, for a while, couldn't I -"

Dumbledore spoke over him. "Severus - considering that when he does return, judging from what he told you that night, you might be very well placed to resume your former position, should you still be interested."

"I might be more interested if I actually knew something about this plan of yours - and anyway, he might have said that he had some sort of regard for me but right after that he tried to kill all of us, and that was _before_ anyone turned out to actually be Potter."

"You have a point. And we can discuss it further at another time. Right now, though, you have a more pressing question."

Severus sighed. "Fine. What does this mean for - for Lily? He's still after her, I'd imagine?"

"Alas, the stunt your fellow Death Eaters pulled suggests that Voldemort will not soon disassociate all of his many troubles from the Potters."

"So, I assume you've told them to stay indoors and enchant their home against - malicious vapors, yes?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Malicious vapors?"

"If he doesn't have a body -"

"Yes, I see your meaning, I'm just surprised at the irreverence of that phrase."

"Stop making fun of the way I say things and tell me what you've told them. They are inside, right?"

"Severus. Why don't you just go and see for yourself?"

"Why do you feel the need to constantly fix everything, and why can't you fix things that _can_ actually be fixed or that actually _need _fixing, like your general lack of honesty?" Severus snapped as he stood, rearranged his robes fussily, and made very irritably to leave.

"Oh, that," Dumbledore said, amused. "It can't be helped at present. And in this case at least it isn't really my place to fix things, Severus. You are, as it happens, the only person who can do that."

"Am I?" Severus spat before he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>James answered the door. Severus looked at him as the disillusionment charm wore off and realized he'd made a terrible mistake.<p>

Coming here still raw from being laughed at by Dumbledore, what was he thinking? Coming here at all, really. But in the end he just hadn't been able to help himself. Severus glared at James. James looked back at him, his cheeks full of something that had evidently been smothered in fluffy pink icing.

"Uuuurrrh," he said, moving his mouth as little as possible to avoid spilling partially masticated crumbs everywhere.

"I'm just here to -"

James waved a hand frantically in Severus's face, a universally understood "shut it" signal, and swallowed, choked, coughed for what seemed like an eternity, and hopped out onto the porch.

"Need a good pounding there, Prongs? Merlin, that came out wrong," came a voice from within.

James made an apologetic face at Severus and slammed his front door. "Sirius and Remus are here -"

He stopped and watched politely as Severus called him and Dumbledore every rude name he could think of.

When Severus was apparently out of breath, James said, calmly, as though nothing extremely vulgar had just happened, "I'll get rid of them, shall I? Use that charm again and come inside."

"_If you think_ -"

But James had already wrenched the door open. Severus swore again and melted into the background. He stumbled over shoes in the hallway and hovered in his favourite corner, glaring at James Potter's precious friends as they shouted their goodbyes to Lily and Harry and complained good-naturedly about being kicked out.

When they were gone, and very reluctantly, Severus reappeared.

"Look, before anyone says anything, we need to talk to you. We have things to tell you and we need to tell you them today, so don't plan on going anywhere for a bit." James looked Severus over thoughtfully. "Now, look, you can waste time complaining about how we've chosen to do things since you took off on us, and you can waste even more time insulting me, and by generally being a right little prick, or we can get the whole thing over with quickly and relatively painlessly. What say you?"

Severus glared.

"Okay, we're off to a good start. First of all," and he lowered his voice considerably, "I really don't care that you, you know. Really it makes sense. And how could I blame you, anyway? And I know you don't care what I think, but if you were afraid that I'd stand around with my arms folded and make threatening gestures over Lily's shoulders at you, you can relax."

Severus glared, the way a volcano might glare if it could, right before violently erupting.

"No, shut up," James said.

"Who are you talking to?" Lily asked from the kitchen, her voice growing louder. "I thought you kicked them -"

She caught sight of Severus.

"Oh," she said stupidly.

"And that is my cue to go pretend to do something else while secretly listening in." James scooped a toddling Harry up and disappeared upstairs.

They stood in silence, looking at anything that wasn't each other.

"Look, Sev, can we talk?" Lily said finally, forcing herself to meet his gaze, which had become terrifying over the past little while.

"I'd really rather not," Severus said, not even bothering to sound polite.

"Neither would I!" she snapped. "Look at how well our last conversation went! And whatever kind of ordeal it was for me, it must have been so much worse -"

"I don't need your pity," he snapped.

"Good, because you don't have it," she replied. "I don't pity you, Severus. I just - can I just say something to you? You don't have to answer, you don't even have to listen if you don't want to, just let me say what I need to say."

Severus considered it for a moment. "You know, I don't think I want to."

"It's not anything petty... it's not about having the last word or anything like that. I want to apologize to you - and you don't have to accept the apology, but I'd like to at least make one."

She waited, watching his face. He took a deep breath and tried to look at anything other than her eyes.

The past months replayed themselves in his mind. He saw the Dark Lord's grotesquely pale face close up to his, hissing that the two of them were similar. He saw his agonizing days and nights in Spinner's End as he waited for death to come crawling out of the gloom to claim him. He had felt all of that time that he'd never see her again, and he had somehow convinced himself that it was a good thing. He didn't recognize any of it as his own life anymore, not while he was standing here in the bright sunshine that their giant bay window always seemed to be letting in, drowning in her eyes.

He exhaled. "I'd actually... like to do the same." And shockingly, it felt a lot like the truth. He grasped on to it tightly.

She brightened. "Good. That's good. Then it'll be equally awkward for both of us." He silently doubted it. "I'll start, is that okay?"

"Whatever you like."

She nodded, placed herself directly in front of him, and took a breath. "All right. Sev, I'm sorry that I abandoned you. I really, really am. It was hard at the time and I still can't think about it without getting upset - which I tell you not to diminish what you went through. I only tell you this because I want you to understand that I cared about you, and I still care about you, very deeply. I only did it because I didn't feel I had another choice -"

"Are we allowed to qualify these? I hadn't realized." His mouth was a thin line and both eyebrows were raised.

She frowned. "Not exactly. I did what I did, because I thought I had to, and whether I was right or not does not change that it happened or what it did to both of us. I'm not going to say that I was wrong, and I'm not going to say that it was right, but I know that it hurt you, and I'm sorry."

He relaxed. "I can accept that."

She smiled. "There's more, of course. I am also sorry that I didn't trust you. You put yourself through so much on our behalf and you deserve better than we - and mostly, than I - gave you in return."

He nodded.

"Thirdly, I'm sorry that I didn't take you seriously, the last time we spoke. And before, when we were at school. I should have known that you have always... cared about me, no matter what else was going on in our lives. And I think last time, I was a little shocked and I let it dictate how I handled your... confession. I'm sorry that I haven't listened to you very well."

He nodded again, the nod much more slight this time.

"Lastly... Sev. I -" She paused, changed her mind, and started again. "I know that... I know you're hurt. I know that it's been hard for you to come here - I thought it was just because you really hate James! But I know now that... there's more to it. And so - even though this isn't much good, I mean, it doesn't really - I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you. Before, and - and even now."

He didn't react, just stayed still and considered her words. She was right, it wasn't what he wanted, not really. But he'd never gotten what he wanted out of life before. He could deal with that aspect of it, and perhaps better than he had before because even though what she'd just said did nothing to fill the void she'd always left him alone with, he did suddenly feel a lot better. If nothing else, the very raw pain born in their last conversation was easing away. Tension he didn't know he was holding in faded, and he felt somehow lighter. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd felt that she had truly known and understood him because, he supposed, it hadn't happened that often. It had been a long time ago, possibly those times when they'd spoken about his parents...

He nodded for a while. For too long, actually. Lily watched him and asked, "Sev? You all right?"

"What? Yes. Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you?" she asked, peering closely at him, resembling her eleven-year-old self for a moment.

"Well, I just - I was expecting you to apologize for marrying Potter."

She blinked, stunned, and then started chuckling.

"I'm not really joking," he said, but he was half-smirking. "It's my turn, I suppose. You wouldn't listen before, so I'll tell you again. I'm sorry that I called you - you know."

They became grave again. "It's okay, Sev."

He nodded, thinking vaguely that if he kept doing that his brain might start dribbling out of his nose. "I'm sorry that I became a Death Eater. I'm sorry that I put you, and your family, in danger. I hope that I have done everything I could do to make you safe again."

"I think you have."

It felt like everything else that would remain unsaid would hang about them for one last moment. When it was over, it would be over. He wasn't sure why it seemed so final. He didn't feel afraid anymore, not of Voldemort, not of the Ministry, not even of Lily, but something was about to end, and he only had one last chance. Severus looked at Lily, who was smiling just a little bit, and decided at last that he couldn't remain silent anymore. He would add one more thing against his better judgment, one last thing that he'd never before considered. To say it, some part of him silently insisted, would be awful because it wasn't true; he wasn't sorry at all for it.

More awful still was the small but growing suspicion that he was.

"And -" he sputtered finally, breaking the calm, "I'm sorry that I'm not - that I - I'm sorry that I can't be happy for you."

"I - understand," she said.

* * *

><p>They were quietly eating scones in the kitchen when James and Harry rejoined them. Even Vivien stalked in to peer at them curiously. Harry stretched his arms out towards her so that he was folded in half over James's arms. James did nothing about this and nodded to Severus as though he'd only just noticed his presence and hadn't actually been waiting for him to finish his talk with Lily.<p>

"You wanted to tell me something," Severus said, putting down his half-eaten scone. "Probably about how you're doing things your own way now that you run the bloody world."

Harry chortled, still folded in half. Severus stared at him in shock.

"He laughs at everything," James told him sternly. "And yes, kind of. It's good that you're sitting down." Severus rolled his eyes and bit into the scone again. He pulled one of the many open Prophets sprawled all over the table towards him and chose to read it instead of watching James Potter pontificate his nonsense.

"We were actually hoping that we'd be able to tell you in person, rather then you having to find out from Dumbledore. We planned the whole thing without him, but when we told him what we were thinking, he seemed to agree that it was for the best."

"Sounds about right," Severus said vaguely, reading, "_Azkaban Breakout Raises New Fears."_

"Lily's sister and her family are coming with us."

"We know where we're going to be at first, but our long term housing arrangements are still up in the air, I'm afraid."

"Right," he said, and then he looked up from the paper ("- _but all they found were a gnome-infested garden and a very unfriendly ghoul in the kitchen sink -"_). "Wait - _going_? What - _where_ are you going?"

Lily and James wore similar apologetic expressions.

"We're leaving, Sev. We've been planning it for some time now."

"But - you - you can't go! The Dark Lord's still out there somehow, and -"

"He's not really our biggest concern right now, though. Dumbledore says he's weakened -"

"Yes, but -"

"We're much more concerned about this new Minister, and the prophet, and, well, people."

Severus stared at James for a moment, uncomprehending. "What, that half-blood stuff? But that'll blow over!"

"Not just the half-blood stuff," Lily said solemnly as James set Harry on the floor and took the seat next to her. "James can't go anywhere if he's not in disguise, and to be honest, I'm not sure that any of this will blow over any time soon."

Severus privately agreed with her, but a solution involving them packing up and going abroad, where he couldn't be sure - that didn't make sense to him.

"You'll be in danger anywhere you go, so why not -"

"It's more dangerous here, close to the Ministry, than anywhere else. Petunia and her family are also in danger. And -" James spoke firmly, cutting off Severus's renewed protests, "we want to free you up."

This really did silence Severus for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"We don't want you stuck looking after us. We don't want to rely on your Fidelius charm. It isn't fair to you, Sev," Lily said seriously.

"But I'm not looking for a way out! I'm fine doing this, I'm trying to make up for - have I ever given the impression that I didn't want to do this anymore?" he asked furiously.

James frowned at him. "I don't know, maybe you did when you stormed out and then early the next morning Dumbledore popped in for breakfast, telling us to think of him as our new Secret Keeper. And then when we didn't see you for months. And of course before that when you were unfailingly rude and when you gave various objects around the house death glares instead of talking to us."

Severus turned one on James now, hating him. "What I meant was that I have never felt that this responsibility was not the most important thing -"

"And that is not fair!" they both shouted.

"We can't keep asking you to do this for us," Lily said softly. James nodded.

Severus regarded them silently. When the moment stretched on too long he turned his attention to Harry and the cat. Harry was grinning at her, and she was regally ignoring him.

"I - for the past few months I lived at home. Spinner's End," he said this last to Lily specifically, and she nodded. "I had nothing to do. I was waiting for the Dark Lord to summon me. I can't explain - without this, I have nothing."

"That isn't true." It was James who spoke, and he spoke feelingly. Both Lily and Severus stared at him. Even Harry turned away from grinning at the cat to grin at his father for a moment. "You'll still have - we're not going anywhere."

There was a pause.

"Well, yes, we are, actually," Lily said quietly, smiling at James.

"That's - yes. But you can still - anyway."

"We're planning to keep in touch, to keep you in the loop, in case, one day, you might want to check up on us," Lily said.

"We have to keep in touch, because otherwise you'd stalk us, obviously," James said gruffly. "But that's not - I mean, Hagrid likes you. And Dumbledore likes you. You _don't_ have nothing."

"Ugh," Severus said, suddenly feeling the need to be thousands of miles away from James Potter.

James was evidently overcome with a comparable emotion, because he shook himself, and then snapped his fingers as if he'd just thought of something brilliant which was obviously a prelude to some sort of a joke."Get a cat! Cats are great," he said, smirking.

"Ugh," Severus repeated, and quickly stood up.

They both followed him into the hallway, matching his rather brisk pace. "We'll get in touch with you soon," Lily told him.

"We're leaving two days from now, and you should hear something within a week," James said. Harry had stumbled after them and was a little winded, and James picked him up again.

Severus thought about saying something, but he didn't know what it might be. What could he possibly say to explain how wrong this felt, and that he was starting to suspect that it wasn't wrong at all? The prospect of life outside this little house in Godric's Hollow actually seemed possible now, and perhaps it was possible for more than just Lily and James. It was terrifying and irresistible, and his heart beat harder than it should have, confirming his fear but insisting that he must take that step, wherever it may lead.

Without saying anything, he'd somehow communicated that this was it. Lily stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "This isn't goodbye," she said as she released him. He wanted to believe that, but the pounding in his chest made him think that she was probably wrong.

James grinned at him from behind Harry's flailing arms and legs (he'd spotted the cat again). "Can we at least agree to not haunt each other's nightmares?"

"Sadly I have no control over what goes on in your brain," he replied, slightly dazed.

There was nothing more to say. Severus nodded to all of them and none of them, waved his wand, and started to disappear. 

* * *

><p><em>1. So that would be the end.<em>

_2. The version of this story I had originally planned did NOT end this way - it was not open-ended and was less anti-climatic, but it was really stupid, so you win some, you lose some._

_3. I like to believe that Severus could find some sort of peace without Lily, but only if she hadn't been murdered. I don't know if it actually is possible, but if it is I have no idea what it would look like, so the story has to end here._

_4. Also I really like James Potter and that was unexpected. He grew on me._

_5. The next thing I write is a never-ending Snape/Potter conversation._


End file.
